


Trippin' Backwards

by The_Shy_One



Category: Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types, The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Accidental Baby Yoda Acquisition, Adorable Baby Yoda (The Mandalorian TV), Anger, Canon-Typical Violence, Clone Wars, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Misunderstandings, Mystery, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Panic Attacks, The Force, Time Shenanigans, Time Travel, Wrongful Imprisonment, switching POV
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-01
Updated: 2021-01-25
Packaged: 2021-03-04 18:01:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 44,042
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25020568
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Shy_One/pseuds/The_Shy_One
Summary: Paz through a series of actions ends up back in time where the Clone Wars was in full swing. Only he doesn't know that and is trying to get his husband's child back so that they can reunite.
Relationships: Baby Yoda (The Mandalorian TV) & Paz Vizla, Plo Koon & CC-3636 | Wolffe, The Armorer (The Mandalorian TV)/Cara Dune, The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV)/Paz Vizla
Comments: 169
Kudos: 555





	1. Chapter One

Paz had to wonder how Din watched his kid when he went bounty hunting. Sure the ad’ika was cute with the comically big ears and black eyes that always expressed all of their emotions to the world - but the way they could scurry away and avoid his attempts at grabbing them when chasing them? 

That made them an adorable little menace that needed to be contained in the Razor Crest with a lock they couldn’t reach with their tiny three-fingered hands. Really, Paz was relying on the hope that if the kid couldn’t see the lock, they wouldn’t be able to use the Force to unlock the door and get out again. 

Oh, who was he kidding, the kid could probably climb walls for all he knew and just get to the lock that way.

And it was proven true when he turned around from checking on supplies to see the kid was running down the ramp, gleeful and chirping as they went towards the edge of the woods.

“Ad’ika, quit scurrying!” He yelled, running after them. His feet pounded against the metal of the ramp and then the dirt, desperate to catch up to the little creature. They ran into the woods, moving quickly around roots and bushes with ease. Paz who was a few feet from them was now straying further and further as the two of them went deeper and deeper into the woods.

“Ad’ika!” He yelled once more as he dodged branches and roots of the planet’s fauna. He heard them giggling, delighted by the whole chase. As if it were only a game the two of them were playing and not a serious break out into a world of unknowns. 

And if he didn’t catch them, Din would skin him alive. They may love each other, had done the whole vow to each other with the Armorer as their witness, but nothing came between Din and his ad. That was a simple truth that Paz and everyone else in the clan knew since Din first blew up the Imps compound on Nevarro.

Finding a foundling and bonding with them was the Way, hope for the future of the clan. Paz should be so lucky that the man he loved felt that strongly about a kid that they adopted.

He continued to run through the woods, listening for the soft patter of feet and the gleeful sound of their giggles, trying to keep them in his sight as they kept running away. It seemed the kid was leading him towards the heart of the woods where the knots of roots grew bigger and the light started to filter in less from the canopy. There were also not plants, disappearing as soon as there was no light to be seen. Paz tried to continue to keep them in his sight as he started to jump and climb over the roots. 

The ad’ika, of course, was getting over these roots with the aid of the Force. While a bit more wobbly than Paz had imagined the Jedi Masters of the past, he knew that it was better than having to physically climb them like he was doing. He should use the jetpack, it would make this whole chase easier. But he knew that trying to maneuver in such a limited space was unwise and might force him to stray even further from Din’s kid. The roots were getting bigger and more gnarly as they continued this chase.

And Paz was starting to get the feeling of something watching him as this was all going on. The feeling settled in his neck, close to the top of his spine, weighing in on him - keeping him on edge as he tried to get the kid back.

“Ad’ika!” Paz shouted once more, hoping they would give up the chase. He heard their giggling, further away than expected and it caused Paz to feel panic in his chest. He had to get them back, couldn’t let them out of his sight. He couldn’t let Din down, not with something so important.

He moved to take the vicroblade out of his boot, slashing at the brush as it suddenly made a reappearance along with the roots. Somehow it had grown tall and wild in this part of the planet-wide forest despite how dark it was, starting to attach itself to the trunks of the trees the further in he went. It made seeing where the kid was going a bit easier, their movement rustling the leaves far ahead as they continued to run despite it inconveniencing his movements.

Paz continued to follow after them, going through the motions of climbing roots and slashing at the brush, determined to get the ad’ika before any harm came to them. He ignored the feeling of being watched at the back of his neck even when it started to grow and encompass more of his body. It wasn’t worth it to worry about everything at once. His first priority was to get the kid, the most important thing currently before turning his attention to whatever was causing his senses to go haywire.

But as the canopies closed, letting in no light to guide the way and the plant life growing bigger, standing tall over Paz - making it hard to cut through since along with being tall, the stems had grown thick enough that hacking at them with one swipe wasn’t enough, he now needed to take time to do so. Time he didn’t have the more the little one ran from him. The roots were a hassle as well, now preventing him from jumping over them, requiring that he climb them.

All the while, that feeling, weighted and eerie as it was when he first sensed it, had grown and started to make him feel as if he were being preyed upon, watched like a prey animal that didn’t know it was heading towards a trap. Paz didn’t like it, didn’t like feeling like this, especially when the kid’s voice had faded away for a good solid minute. It spelt out danger and that caused further panic in Paz’s chest.

With a frustrated growl, Paz decided that it was easier to use the jetpack and fly closer to the canopy than subjugate himself to this. It’s what he should have done in the first place. Paz put the vicroblade back in his boot and took flight, not caring if the flames caught onto the plant life, as huge and tall as it was. Frankly, in his opinion, it needed to be flushed out since it was likely trying to spread out to strangle the rest of the forest with the way it attached itself to the trees.

By now the forest was completely dark, the canopies blocking any way for light to come through. It forced Paz to turn on the night vision in his helmet to search for the kid, who’s voice he had stopped hearing for the last few minutes. His eyes scanned as he flew, hoping for any sign of the kid being close by. They were so small and inexperienced in fighting or defending themselves. They won't last long in here, not with whatever was trying to hunt Paz.

A minute went by and no sign of them as he weaved around trees and their branches. Panic started to claw its way to his brain, making Paz imagine the many possibilities of what might be happening to the ad’ika - all of them horrible. It wasn’t good to panic, not when nothing bad had definitely happened. But it was irrational, the same as the feeling of being watched that Paz was also experiencing.

It wasn’t funny now, but he had to wonder how Din dealt with the kid when he had to go bounty hunting.

Then whatever was watching him decided that it was finished with doing that. Suddenly something landed on his back, the weight pushing down on his jetpack forcing him to spin wildly and fall towards the ground since he couldn’t brace against it. He could hear the sound of claws scratching against the metal, desperate and quick as this was all happening, the ground coming closer with each second.

Then as he was coming closer to the ground, Paz managed to gain some control of the jetpack and forced himself to flip over. Whatever was attached to the jetpack didn’t stop him, continuing to scratch with desperation as if hungry for what it would provide them. Paz then unhooked the jetpack from his back and let it go as he pulled out the vicroblade once more and stabbed it into the trunk of one the trees. 

He felt his arm yank at the sudden stop, close to popping out of its socket. It would bruise and hurt like hell as time would go on, but Paz didn’t focus on it, only allowing him a moment to groan. He heard in his mind one of the trainers when he joined the infantry as a teen shouting at him ‘ _ K’atini!’ _ , a mantra he had kept with him when going into battle, prepared to give his life up for the clan. Then there was the sound of the jetpack hitting roughly hitting the ground shortly after.

Silence and then the loud sound of the gas chamber exploding as something ripped it open and caused something to spark near it. Paz turned off his night vision and looked down to see a brush fire had started from his jetpack. 

It started to spread as it caught more and more of the huge plantlife, nothing wet since nothing could penetrate the canopy. He still couldn’t see what the creature looked like, hidden by the dancing shadows created by the flames. Pulling the vicroblade out of the trunk, Paz let himself fall.

He couldn’t feel the rush of air around him or the leaves of the plants brushing up against his body, the armour covering his body protecting him from everything that wanted to sink into his skin and body with the intention to maim or kill. But it couldn’t prevent him from feeling the heat of the flames as he landed, rolling to keep from shattering his legs which drew him close to the flames. Standing up quickly, he was met with an outline of a small humanoid figure as it stood in the flames, unaffected by them as it crawled up their legs.

They lunged forward to strike, claws scratching at the armour as they went for his bruised shoulder. Almost as they sensed where he was injured and were going for the weak spot. Paz moved, grabbing at one of their arms and using the vicroblade to cut across their stomach. The creature released a horrible screech and tried to move backwards towards the flames, flapping their arms as if they had wings.

Paz continued to hold onto their one arm, yanking the creature closer to his body, using the vicroblade to create another cut across their stomach. Another horrible screech, closer to his ear this time and yet he didn’t let go. He wouldn’t let this creature go only for them to try to hunt him again. Din’s kid was in danger and Paz wasn’t about to let anything come in the way of finding them.

Then something attached itself to his back, clawing at the back of his helmet in desperation. It forced him to let go of the bleeding creature, reaching behind to grab at whatever was attacking him. As he focused on that, he failed to take notice of the creature he let go. The bleeding creature then rammed into him causing him to take a few stumbling steps back.

Paz felt whatever was on his back crawl to his front, the sound of their claws clicking against the beskar. It was a similar shape to the bleeding creature which rammed into him again and forced him into a tree, his back hitting it roughly. Both of their eyes glowed a bright orange, anger and hatred the only emotions shining as they stared into his visor.

Paz tried to move forward, to grab the one that was hanging onto his front to kill but was met with something grabbing at his arms and legs, pulling him tight against the tree. There was a rough sounding screech from the one on the ground, still bleeding and eyes burning with hatred. A few more came out of the spreading flames, all greeting the scene with a sound that was close to joyous with the way their scratchy voice sounded.

They quickly surrounded Paz, repeating this sound as they went to try to claw his armour off and took his vicroblade out of his hand, tossing it to the side. The one hanging on his front was the one to try and get his helmet off, chittering exciting as their claws lightly brushed against his neck and cheeks to try and reach the strap that held the helmet in place. Paz growled and tried to move out of their hold.

He was met with a tighter grip and a sound of disapproval from the creatures. One of them was scraping their claws at his bruised shoulder, chittering loudly when he loudly groaned at the pain they were causing which excited the others. There was more desperate clawing, scraping against the metal as if they couldn’t wait to crack open his armour and eat him alive.

Paz struggled against their hold, needing to get away from them. He had to find the ad’ika, had to make sure they were safe in his arms and were returned back to their buir. 

Then without warning, the flames died down. There was a flurry of screeches, bewildered at the lack of flame. Then it turned to panic when the ones holding his arms and legs were one by one flung away from him. Taking his chance, Paz moved to grab at the flung vicroblade, turning on his night vision once more and went to kill whatever creature he could get his hands on. He didn’t watch them die, only moved onto the next one who hadn’t run away from him.

There was an angry sound, a low growl as it moved closer to the scene, taking care of the rest of the creatures. Paz paused for a moment to look and through the visor, he saw the little one using the Force to push all the creatures away. There was obvious strain at doing this, but they wouldn’t stop doing it until they knew that Paz was alright.

Something warmed his heart at that thought that his cyare’s kid cared for him that much. That they were willing to go through the exhausting process to make sure he was safe.

He reached down, grabbed at them with one hand and held them close to his body as they took out the rest of the pack together. With this method, they got all but one which slipped away once it realized that they were outnumbered and overpowered. Paz went chasing after them, letting himself be lifted over the roots by the little one. They kept close to the creature, not letting it out of their sight.

Soon the trees started to thin out, letting Paz see in the distance there was clearing with ruins in it. The creature - easier to see with the dying light of the afternoon - was covered in feathers, a mix of orange and black and would try to flap its arms like it could get out by flying to the canopy. But each time it got a foot or so off the ground before it roughly landed back down on the ground.

They chased it into the ruins, following it as it went deeper and deeper. It was a rock structure, carvings of a language into the walls that were barely readable with time and weather eroding it from the stone. There were claw marks, more recent than any of the carvings which meant that the estranged feathered creatures had made a home here and likely lived like a pack.

Paz smiled at this realization and picked up speed. He quickly gained on the creature, following them into a room that was mostly covered by a stone roof. It was dark and the creature likely thought they were safe. Paz grinned as he turned the helmet’s night vision back on and spotted them cowering behind a structure in the middle of the room. 

He moved, taking quick strides toward the creature and making sure that it was as quiet as possible. Then when they tried to scrabble away, realizing that he was approaching, he moved to kick at the back of their legs as they stood up. They toppled over, screeching in pain as they hit the ground hard. 

Paz stood over them, putting a boot on their back to keep them from escaping. He looked to see the ad’ika squirming in his arms, growling and holding out a hand as if they were choking someone. The feathered creature under his boot started to choke and Paz quickly connected the dots.

Din had spoken about an incident with the little one where they had tried to choke someone out of protection. It scared his cyare, not knowing his kid could do that and would do so viciously.

“Ad’ika!” He said loudly, moving his hand to cover theirs. “No!”

There was a curious sound as if they couldn’t understand why Paz would stop them. “No, we won’t do that.”

He places them on the structure, intending on giving them their first lesson on what a kill would entail. He never got to do that since the structure beneath their feet started to glow red and hum the second that they were placed there. Paz quickly grabbed them, taking them off the structure, hoping he wasn’t too late. 

Turning to run, Paz felt something invisible wrap around his body. It continued to do so as he went towards the entrance. It then gripped him tightly, keeping him in place, only a foot or so away from exiting the room. It was almost as if whatever was holding them down were taunting him about the fact that he couldn’t get out, couldn’t escape whatever it was.

The red glow started to get brighter, so bright that Paz had to close his eyes. He held the kid closer to his chest, hoping to keep them safe this way. The humming continued, growing louder as the seconds went on. Then there was a single pop and suddenly Paz was falling.

Quickly, he opened his eyes and saw a rapidly approaching ground. He caught sight of a ship and troops surrounding it, but that was all he was taking in as he tried to figure out how to land safely. As his mind raced, he then felt their decent start to slow down. Looking, he saw a humanoid alien holding out a hand, similar to ad’ika when they float items above their body. 

The closer they got to the ground, the more he saw of their features. There was some kind of mask on their face, moving slightly when their face moved and likely when they spoke as well. Their skin was a light brown colour with patterns being a few shades darker. It was likely that they were a Kel Dor from what Paz could remember about the species. They wore a robe, dark brown and covering up the outfit that they wore, almost close to a description of a Jetii that his buir had spoken about to him when he was young. 

Paz squinted at this figure, wondering who they were and why they were dressed up like that. While the Empire was gone there were still groups out there who would skin anyone who was thought to be a Jetti - wanting money and the reputation that came with killing a Jetti.

Still, when he landed safely on the ground, there was an air to them that was calm, that he could trust them. Paz held the kid close to his chest, still unsure if he should trust such a feeling.

“You took quite a tumble there, soldier,” The Kel Dor starts, his voice calm, but also amused. “A story I presume?”

Paz moved to speak, to tell him that he wasn’t going to explain a single thing to him when something struck the back of his head, hard. The beskar while protective, could also be used against a Mandalorian if one knew how to do that. Paz still dazed from the hit, felt something ram into him, causing him to topple forward. He held the child close to his chest, making sure they wouldn’t be crushed by his weight.

Turning to his side, he saw a Stormtrooper standing over him, holding a blaster in their hands, ready to shoot him if he moved wrong. Their helmet was the same white plastoid that much of the Imperial army wore, the only difference was the red markings that surrounded the black visor. Paz didn’t even see the other stormtrooper - too focused on the one pointing a blaster at him - when they kicked him in the back of the head. 

The beskar of his helmet forcefully met the back of his head with that movement, causing his vision to blur. He watched through blurry vision as the Kel Dor moved to stand over him and then bend down. Along with the imposter Jetti, other blurry shapes came to surround Paz, all of them mostly white with red around the edges.

Paz tried to move but was held down by some of the blurry stormtroopers. He heard the child whine, the sound ringing in his ears. He held them even closer, not willing to give them up to these men. The only thing he could get out was, “Don’t take them,” before he was kicked in the head and was forced to pass out.

_________

Plo wasn’t sure what to make of the fallen Mandalorian and the little one that he was holding close to his chest despite being unconscious. There were obvious signs that the little one was Force-sensitive - he sensed how they felt within the Force and watching how they tried to heal the Mandalorian with what little energy they had left. But as Plo kneeled, their small body gave out, laying against the chest of the Mandalorian, exhausted. 

He looked into their black eyes, seeing fear and anger as they stared back at him. It was likely that this Mandalorian was their guardian and was unwilling to part from him even if they were supposed to be enemies. Plo smiled and held out a hand to them, showing they weren’t in any danger with him around.

They stared at it distrustfully but didn’t bite when he moved the Mandalorian’s arms so they weren’t tightly clutching the little one. They continued to stay close to the Mandalorian, unwilling to leave the large man. He saw Wolffe and the rest of the Wolf Pack looking over the rest of the man, looking for any weapons that could be used against them if he woke up before getting him to their ship.

Plo saw that Wolffe took his helmet off, his usual glare growing even more severe when his eyes landed on the familiar signal on the blue armour on the Mandalorian's shoulder. It proudly proclaimed which group the Mandalorian was part of and why both he and Wolffe should be concerned.

“What’s a member of Death Watch doing with a kid?” Wolffe asked, looking to Plo. “Thought they were trying to lay low.”

“There is more to this than what we’re seeing,” He answers his commander. “And it’s unlikely we’ll get an answer out of the little one.”

“Because they’re young?”

“Because they look like one of Yoda’s kind.”

He saw Wolffe’s eyes widen for a moment. Then the commander schooled his expression as he looked back down at the Mandalorian between them. “You know we’ll have to keep him in a cell until he wakes up.”

“Unfortunate. They are close to each other.” Plo says. He moves his hand close to the little one and they let him pet between their ears. Instead of anger, they started to look at him with tired curiosity, likely sensing that he was Force-sensitive as well. “We’ll have to have someone keep the little one near if we want to get any answers of the Mandalorian.”

Wolffe rolled his eyes which caused Plo to smile. “Do we have to sir?”

“I would like to see you get in between a Mandalorian and their child, Commander Wolffe.” He didn’t have to say anything more, his message clear. Wolffe rolled his eyes once more but didn’t argue any further.

Plo watched as Wolffe commanded the rest of the Wolf Pack to take the Mandalorian inside the ship. He then turned his focus towards the little one who was sitting on the ground. They were cooing in an inquiring tone, looking at the wolf Pack taking their father away from them.

With a sigh, Plo carefully picked up the child and held them in his arms. They squirmed for a few seconds until they realized that he was following after the men. They settled down and he spoke up. “It’ll be alright, little one. We won’t keep you from him.”

There was a cooing sound from the child and Plo smiled once more. He hoped that whatever the Mandalorian was doing with this child wasn’t part of any plans that Death Watch may have.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ad'ika - little one, son, daughter, of any age  
> Ad - Son  
> K'atini - Suck it up! Or: It's only pain!  
> Buir - Mother or Father  
> Cyare - Beloved, Loved, popular  
> Jetti - Jedi
> 
> Alright, here's a new long fic! I'm so excited about writing this, you won't believe it! I'll try to post a new chapter every week since I have until the end of August before a new semester starts. If you want my shenanigans about my writing o this fic or any news about delays for it, you can find me on Tumblr with maul-antics. 
> 
> Hopefully, it was a fun chapter to read! :D


	2. Chapter Two

Din returned to a sight of the Razor Crest’s ramp lowered. He felt panic swirling around in his chest as he moved up the ramp, trying to take hold in his heart and spread to him to poison him with the many possibilities of what this could mean. As he went to check the rest of the Razor Crest, his buir’s voice, light and calm kept repeating the word,  _ ‘udesiir,’  _ in his mind, the only thing that kept him from flipping out and tearing the ship apart.

He goes through the whole ship quickly, not many places to hide for a man of Paz’s size. Even his kid didn’t have many places to hide since the Razor Crest wasn’t meant to hold many people at once. It was only meant for one or two people who were traversing across the system as bounty hunters, not for a family fleeing for their lives from the fragments of the Empire. 

Din stops looking when he reaches the cockpit. They weren’t anywhere on the ship. There was no sign of a struggle anywhere, but there was also nothing that would give him a clue to where Paz and his ad could be. His heart started to beat faster as he left the cockpit, panic finally finding a way to sneak in. Thoughts of what could have happened and what might be currently happening to them, flashing and mixing together until Din couldn’t tell one from the other.

He leans against the wall, breathing becoming too quick, his thoughts speeding at a pace he couldn’t keep up with. He quickly takes off his helmet and lets it drop to the floor so he can suck in air. The only thing that felt real in that moment was the cool metal that his back presses against. It starts to ground him, keeps him from completely spiralling into panic.

_ ‘Udesiir, _ ’ Din hears once more in his mind, his buir’s voice pushing through the insane mess in his head.  _ ‘Udesiir,’  _ becomes a mantra for him at that moment. He stares at the control panel that is across the way, keeping it in focus. It is the second thing that grounds him, keeping from spiralling. He also takes notice of the pilot’s seat, old and worn, in desperate need of repair. But it won’t, not until it’s literally falling apart, the one reminder he has of his buir on this ship. 

He also takes notice of the heat and humidity, imposing itself on him. There was supposed to be one more thing, but Din felt calm enough at this point to try and stand once more. He grabs for his helmet, holding it in his arms as he goes into the cockpit. While his husband and kid were gone, leaving no trace, Din knew what he had to do, knew that he had to keep moving. He couldn’t spiral forever, he had to find those two.

He sits in the pilot’s seat, taking notice of how comfortable it was. Then he went to turn the ship’s communication on, sending a message to Cara that he needed her help. 

_________

He sluggishly woke up. Everything in his body hurt, aching as if someone stretched his muscles and then tried to shrink it back all in one go before putting it back on his bones. Paz shifted, keeping himself from groaning as the pain radiates up and down his body. He continues to shift to his side, noticing he was laying on a hard slab when he settles back down.

Opening his eyes, Paz quickly shuts them when he is blinded by the white light right outside the doorway shining into his eyes. As he rushes to cover his eyes with his hands, he notices that his helmet has been taken off. Fear and panic gripped his heart as he sat up, ignoring the pain.

His hands moved over his face and head, desperate to feel beskar underneath them, hoping he was only dreaming that it was off his head. As he opens his eyes - ignoring the need to close them as the light hits them once more - he sees that the rest of his armour has been taken off as well. 

It  _ couldn’t _ be off, it shouldn’t be at  _ all! _

Growling, Paz pulls at his hair and looks towards the doorway once more. There was a red force field where a door would normally be, meant to keep prisoners in and everyone else out for as long as needed. Still, he studies it from his slab, wondering in there was a way to get out. Nothing was infallible, even beskar armour gets worn down after a while when being repeatedly shot at with rifles and blasters.

As Paz stares, hoping to find a solution, a head peeks around the corner of the doorway. The familiar sight of a stormtrooper helmet causes him to hunch his shoulders, his muscles coiling, waiting to strike. It didn’t matter that there were patterns on it, all donned in red, it was a  _ stormtrooper _ . “Why am I here?” He asks, voice low and dangerous. “Where is my armour, trooper?”

“You’re being kept while we investigate why you have a Force-sensitive child, Mando.” They said, voice not giving away how they felt or if they were intimidated by Paz. They come to stand in full view of him, the rest of their plastoid armour making him stand on edge. “And your armour has been taken to another part of the ship.”

It wasn’t enough that the Empire tried to purge all of the Mandalorians, they had to steal their armour’s design as well. It was an extra stab in the back for not complying to their ruling, for being a powerful force against the former Emperor.

Paz looks for weak points in the armour, knowing that he didn’t need any weapon to take them down. He was a warrior and a son of the Vizla clan. He was trained to escape any possible situation by any means necessary and protect the clan even at the cost of his own life. He doubts that the stormtrooper was even trained properly, just enough to force citizens to their will when needed.

Paz stood up, ignoring the pain and stalked towards the doorway. Standing to his full height, he looks down into the black visor - all surrounded by designs in yellow. “Don’t call me  _ that  _ trooper,” He says icily. He saw them shrink down, taking a step back from the doorway, reaching for the blaster that was at their side. “Now tell me why I’m here and where my kid is.”

“You’re being investigated, as I said.” The Stormtrooper said, voice now wavering slightly. “As for the kid, they’re with Master Plo.”

“And where is Master Plo?” Paz wanted all the answers now so he could grab the kid and find a way back to Din. His husband had to have found the empty ship by now and was likely trying to find where the two of them were. It didn’t matter if the Kel Dor was playing Jetti for the hell of it, Paz wasn’t going to back down until the ad’ika was in his arms again.

“I don’t know,” They said, taking another step back, finally raising the blaster with both hands. As if they were scared that he might come through the force field by willpower alone.

Paz turns, heading back to the slab. If they weren’t going to let him see his kid, he was going to try and break out when it was possible. He laid down, letting all of the pain that he just ignored rush over him. He breathes through it, not willing to let any trooper see him being weak.

He hears their footsteps retreat after a few minutes, the sound of the plastiod armour clicking together as they went back to their station. He knew there would soon be another along with the Jetti imposter questioning him. They wouldn’t get anything out of him. Paz  _ wouldn’t _ risk harm coming to his husband and ad’ika from his recklessness, he won’t allow it.

_________

Plo feels through the Force when the Mandalorian wakes up. There is a spike of fear and panic, likely at the fact that the child wasn’t at their side as they continue to wake up. He watches the child in his arms react, big green ears perking up as if they were listening for their father’s voice through layers of metal. Their eyes showed excitement that they could feel their parent waking in the Force as well.

He makes sure they don’t tip out of his arms when they start to squirm. They were certainly strong in the Force even at such a young age. Plo would have to ask Master Yoda if it was the same for him as a child once they returned to Coruscant. It would help both him and their father understand what to do for training when they were old enough. Looking to Wolffe who was standing at his side, Plo speaks up. “Our prisoner has woken up, Commander.”

“And you’re thinking of going to talk to him,” Wolffe says. “With the ad’ika to help us get answers.”

“You doubt he cares for the child,” He says, sensing the skepticism from his commander. Plo watches as Wolffe keeps his face even as he turns to him, one brown eye staring at him like he was dealing with a curious child instead of a Jedi. It was hard not to smile, knowing that Wolffe liked him despite all that happened when Plo was around.

“I doubt he has good intentions for them since he’s part of Death Watch,” Wolffe said, voice as even as his face. Which was unusual since Wolffe leaned towards sarcasm most of the time when it was just the two of them. “They were declared a terrorist group by the New Mandalorians, sir.”

“Yes, I remember,” Plo said. He looks down at the child, grinning when they look up at him with those precious eyes. “But there is something here that is not making sense, Wolffe. The Mandalorian doesn’t feel as if he fits here.”

“And what would ‘here’ be, sir?” Wolffe asks, brow furrowing. Plo sensed his confusion, trying to piece together what his general was saying.

“We’ll have to ask him ourselves,” Plo says happily. Before his commander could question him again, Plo turns and leaves the bridge. 

He hears the footsteps of Wolffe follow after him, smiling as he hears the commander grumbling curses in Mando’a. When reaching Plo, he keeps pace and doesn’t look at his general as he puts on his helmet. Down the monochrome hallways, all three of them went, towards the holding cells. He senses anger from the Mandalorian even through several layers of the ship, volatile and dangerous the closer he gets to the cell. Despite that, the child cooed excitedly, likely only sensing that they were getting closer to their father.

They turn the last corner and Plo sees one of the clones standing as far as he could from the cell where the Mandalorian was being held. Curious as to why this is, Plo stops in front of him when he walks down the hallway. He keeps the child from jumping out of his arms, looking at the soldier. Wolffe stops beside him, his glare forcing the soldier to stand a bit straighter.

The red designs around the visor of his helmet tell him that it is Comet, the minute details different enough from the rest of the Pack to know it was him. “Comet,” He starts,” Any reason for standing so far away?”

“He-,” Comet starts before sighing. “He didn’t react well to his armour being off or the child being out of his sight, sir.”

Plo was curious. While he had heard of clans of Mandalorians following a set of rules that didn’t allow for their helmets to come off, he didn’t know any had made their way in Death Watch. Something wasn’t right, nothing was clicking as it should. Who was this Mandalorian? Why did he appear as he did?

“And he threatened you?” He asks. He sees Wolffe stiffen, his feelings of protectiveness for a brother, a vod surge through Force. It was a strong reaction, one that Plo knew why it occurred.

“No, he just went back to his bunk. Sir, I don’t think we should allow the kid near him.” Comet says, worry clear in his voice and the Force. “He doesn’t seem the friendliest person to anyone. Got a meaner stare than Commander Wolffe.”

Plo smiles wryly at the Comet’s attempt at humour, forced to keep any kind of laughter as Wolffe gives an ugly look at Comet. He moves the child into one arm, hearing them make a soft sound and uses the other to try and bring some comfort to the soldier by placing it on their shoulder. “Commander Wolffe and I will be able to handle him, Comet.”

“You don’t understand, sir,” Comet says, voice wavering. His fear was clear in the Force even if Plo couldn’t see it on his face due to the helmet. “He looked ready to murder me when I went to see if he was awake. The way he stared - it was like he was seeing something else, something worse than me.”

“What do you mean, vod?” Wolffe asks, confused.

Plo tilts his head, considering what Comet said. Before he could ask any further questions, there was a loud sound from the cell the Mandalorian was in. All of them looked to see the tall man standing at the doorway, glaring harshly at all of them. “If you’re going to be gossiping about me, do it to my face,  _ burc’ya, _ ” the Mandalorian growls out, glare becoming even harsher when he catches Plo’s eyes. 

The anger from the man was at full force, twisting with bitterness and resentment into the Force, a combination that Plo hadn’t felt since his brief encounter with Ventress. Plo, for a moment, thought that maybe it was unsafe for him to have brought the child with him.

As he thought that, the child squirmed and toppled out of his arm. He saw the way the child used the Force to cushion their landing as they fell, tumbling as they reached the floor. They weren’t hurt, standing up as all children seemed to do at that stage. They looked at him for a moment, smiling. He was curious to see what they did next, not stopping them as they ran towards the Mandalorian. Comet made a move to stop them, but Plo and Wolffe held him back with an arm from each of them. 

Together they watched as the child went up to the doorway, stopping before they ran into the forcefield. They were making happy sounds at the Mandalorian, cooing and giggling. As if they were speaking the best they could to their father.

Plo watched as the Mandalorian looked down at his child, face softening as he stared at them. Then he went to kneel, getting closer to their level, speaking softly. Plo couldn’t hear any of his words as they were spoken too softly, but he felt the moment that the Mandalorian released his anger. 

There were still echoes of bitterness and resentment, but now there was the feeling of love, of care, that Plo had felt from others in the Temple when seeing their creche mates, their padawans and masters. It was something he had often felt for the men under his command when he saw them in their downtime, coming to love each trooper soon after meeting them.

Plo knew that whatever this Mandalorian was doing with the child, it wasn’t sinister as his men believed. There were pieces of the puzzle missing and Plo intended to find out.

He steps forward, moving towards the cell. He heard Wolffe following behind, his armour giving away that he had moved from his station. There was weariness bleeding out from the commander even if he was forcing himself to keep calm as he stayed close. He had only seen the aggression of the Mandalorian and wasn’t likely to change his mind after seeing that display.

Plo brushed a feeling of calmness to his commander, hoping it would help. He knew that for whatever reason, the Mandalorian wasn’t taking kindly to the sight of any of Plo’s men. That it would be best to keep all of them as calm as possible during this time. Turning his attention back to the Mandalorian, he saw that their blue eyes stared at up at him with disdain.

When close enough, Plo and Wolffe stopped near the child. They were still cooing at their father, still excited to see the man. They briefly looked back at them, smiling wildly and pointing towards the Mandalorian. “Buh!” They loudly exclaimed, happy as they could be.

“Yes, your father,” Plo says, smiling warmly. “Would you like to visit him?”

There was a screech, an unequivocal answer for yes from the child. Wolffe gives Plo a single nod and steps towards the cell’s pad, pushing in the numbers for the force field to disappear. Before the child could run to its father, Plo picked them up and held them in his arms. 

The Mandalorian continues to kneel where he is, watching Wolffe move towards him with a stony glare. There was distrust in his eyes as he focused on Wolffe as the commander asked him to move his hands up to handcuff him. The man’s lips twitched as he raised his arms for Wolffe to take ahold of likely keeping himself from snarling at the commander. 

“Get up,” Wolffe said sternly. He didn’t jerk the prisoner in any direction, just gave the man a glare that was equal in how much death was promised if there was one wrong move from the Mandalorian. “Get up now, burc’ya.”

There was a huff from the prisoner. Plo felt the force of the anger the man had displayed before, only for a moment before it was swallowed back up. They stood up, his height towering over him and Wolffe. He, however, didn’t try to do anything, only followed after Plo’s commander with a blank face.

“However did you manage to find him, little one?” Plo asks of the child, looking down at them. They did not answer, only a vaguely confused look on their face as they stared up at him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Udesiir - relax, take it easy, calm down, find respite  
> Ad - son  
> Buir - Mother or Father  
> Ad'ika - little one  
> Jetti - Jedi  
> Vod - comrade  
> Burc'ya - friend (used ironically)
> 
> Another chapter! Yay! I was so excited to get this one out and I'm glad I was able to keep to my schedule. I loved writing Paz as a threat to the Clones since he is a very proud and angry character from what we've seen in the Mandalorian. Even if he is very soft for Din and Baby Yoda, he is still a very volatile character (which considering the Purge and having a name Viszla to hold up, it makes sense.) 
> 
> Also Plo just interaction with Baby Yoda was also fun since Plo just has the vibe of 'adoption' for anyone who is willing to have that happen lol. Din and Paz have some competition for the custody of Baby Yoda.
> 
> I'm on Tumblr at maul-antics for anyone wanting to see my shenanigans for the Mandalorian and The Clone Wars as well as my vague posting about this fic.
> 
> Hopefully, it was a fun chapter to read! :D


	3. Chapter Three

It took Cara only a few hours to answer his com. Her appearance was fuzzy on the holodeck, signalling that wherever she was in Nevarro didn’t have a good signal. Still, Din appreciated that she answered, looking at him with concern. They talked, him giving details of what he had come back to and her asking where his coordinates were. He listed them off, hope singing in his chest when she said she could be there soon.

Din did not doubt that Greef would give her the fastest ship available if she asked. He was oddly soft for a leader of the Guild, even more so when it came to their makeshift group. They weren’t friends, far from it. But something was there, made it easy for all of them to ban together when it was needed.

He stares at the holodeck for a few minutes, calculating how long it should take her to reach him. It won’t be more than two days at most even with the fastest ship being given to her. Din moves to stand, looking out the cockpit windows to see the forest that surrounded the clearing. He knows that his husband and child couldn’t have gone far. The closest population was miles away, something that Din was glad for when they landed here a few days ago. 

Sighing, he picked up his helmet and moved to put it on the bed that was down below. He could do without it for the rest of the day, needing something that wasn’t encasing his head as he went to work on repairing parts of the ship. He wanted to keep his mind from spiralling again, to keep busy until Cara arrived to help. 

He kept at the repairs until he had to eat. By then the sun was down, darkness encasing the forest. Din knew he would have to turn off the lights and go to bed after he finished eating. There wasn’t much population on this planet, but there was still the risk of the animal population getting ideas about what was inside a ship that had just landed. He quietly cleaned up, making sure things were back where they were supposed to be. Then he turned off all the lights, surrounded by darkness. 

He felt his way back to the bed, hands on the wall to guide him and feet brushing against anything that would cause him to fall. Reaching the bed, Din took off his armour, laying it on the floor in a neat pile. He puts his helmet on top of the pile and then sits on the edge of the small bed. 

It’s more like a cot, really. But Paz was insistent that they call it a bed once they had gotten together and had enacted the riduurok to each other. Din supposed that Paz wanted it to feel more homely, more like something husbands were supposed to sleep in when they were together. Maybe even as a family since Paz was all for being a buir to his ad when the kid was old enough to understand.

Din moved his hands over his face, breathing in deep as those thoughts swirled around in his mind. Tears pricked at the corner of his eyes, hurting more than he expected to. He wouldn’t cry, wouldn’t mourn over them. He would find them, he  _ will  _ find them. There was something in his gut that said they weren’t dead, that they were much stronger than that to be carelessly killed.

He lays down in the bed, moving the single blanket over his body as he gets comfortable.  _ ‘Udesiir,’ _ He thinks as he turns his head to press into the pillow. His scent and Paz’s mixed together from the many nights they spent sleeping together. Din breathed it in, feeling his thoughts calm down as the scent washed over him.  _ ‘Udesiir,’ _ he thinks once more before letting his mind drift towards sleep.

He might have to wait another day, but he will find them.

_________

Cara wakes up when she feels someone roughly shaking her body. She doesn’t move to try and pin them down, despite what her instincts tell her to do. She knows it was the Armorer waking her, that she was safe with the other woman. Her eyes flicker open when the Armorer shakes her body extra hard - like she didn’t know that Cara was awake already -, smiling when she sees how dressed down the Mandalorian is. She still wears her golden helmet and undergarments, but the rest of her armour and padding was gone, baring her dark brown skin for Cara to see.

“We are close, dral,” Armorer says, voice as calm and level as it can be. Yet Cara knew that the other woman was feeling particularly touchy since her one hand was wrapped around Cara’s hand - her thumb gently stroking the top of it. “Get ready.”

“Aren’t you going to get ready as well?” Cara asks, amused. The Armorer tilts her head to one side, the helmet gleaming in the low light of the ship. Somehow, Cara knew that the Mandalorian was smiling softly at her.

“I will, once you go to the pilot’s seat.” She says, voice softer than before. Code for  _ ‘I will once you can’t see me take my helmet off.’ _

Cara lifts their joined hands to her face and presses a kiss to the Mandalorian’s hand. She felt the pulse beneath her lips quicken for a moment, smirking that the woman before her was just as weak to these actions as Cara was. It was always subtle, but it made Cara proud that she could affect the woman that way.

She stands up, moving to grab her clothes off the floor. The air of the ship was cool compared to the warmth of the blanket. It hit her bare skin, making her shiver as she tried to get all of her clothes on quick. She heard a light chuckle as the Armorer pressed against her back, causing Cara to shiver for a different reason as she got her pants on.

Her skin was tougher, thicker than a human’s and could take so much injury as a Zebrak. Cara had to wonder how much the woman could take before it was fatal. Thoughts like that were always popping in her head, ever since she saw her team get gunned down on Nevarro. She had to wonder what would kill this person that she got close to, had to somehow distance herself from their death despite knowing they were fine, that they were standing in front of her existing and being fine.

Cara remembers how she tried so hard to convince Din to follow after her that day in the Guild’s building - as she put on her shirt, wiggling for a moment to get it to settle where she wanted it to -, that she wasn’t about to let him have a needless death. She could never explain to him how much it hurt to see him accept death so easily, to have already decided that it was inevitable as she begged him to follow after her, to take off his helmet to live.

“Your thoughts swirl, Cara,” Armorer says quietly. She gently maneuvers Cara so that her legs went over the Mandalorian’s lap, her body pressing against hers. The Armorer’s visor could see into Cara’s eyes this way and it made Cara feel loved. The Armorer’s one hand cradles her back while the other is on her front, over her stomach. “What is on your mind?”

“Many things. Mostly death,” She admits easily. She knew there was no reason to lie to her, not when they had grown so close in the last few months.

“Why death?”

“Just so much of it these days. Even without the Empire, it feels like there’s so much.”

Armorer didn’t reply to this. At least not right away. She instead for a moment leans so that the forehelm of her helmet presses against Cara’s forehead. Despite sharing this form of kissing together for a while now, it still takes Cara’s breath away. It was intimate and soft in ways that she never knew she needed.

The Armorer leans aways after the moment is up, still staring down at Cara. “Death makes us uncomfortable and yet it can bring us peace. What about death makes you so worried, dral?”

Cara takes a moment to think. She moves her hand to gently hold the Mandalorian’s hand that was on her stomach, feeling the calluses and other scars that the woman had gotten from fighting and her job as a blacksmith. Then she speaks up. “I don’t like how uncertain things are. How one moment you can be there and then be gone the next.”

“You don’t like how unpredictable it can be,” The Armorer said softly. “Does it have to do with your past as a shock-trooper?”

“Yes,” Cara says, throat suddenly trying to close around an invisible object that had formed there. “Yes, it does.”

“Do not speak if you are uncomfortable, ner dral. You don’t need to explain it to me.” Hearing those words was a blessing coming from the other woman. Cara takes a few breaths, squeezing her hand as a way to stay in the moment. 

She stared up into the blackness of the visor, wondering how she was lucky to nab such a woman. She moves, pressing her forehead to the other’s forehelm. For a quick moment, she heard the Armorer’s breath hitch as if surprised by the action as well. But she melted, wrapping her arms around Cara and holding her closer.

“We must get ready, Cara or else we keep Din waiting,” The Armorer says quietly after a beat. Cara hums in agreement and pulls away from the other woman after a few moments.

“See you in a few minutes,” She says, standing up. She grabs her armour, knowing she can put it on while in the cockpit. As Cara leaves the small room, she hears the Mandalorian move to grab her armour.

Cara smiles, knowing someday she may be able to see the woman’s face. She was content with what she had now, could spend the rest of her life that way if that’s how it pans out. But if the Armorer trusted her enough to do that, loved her more than anything in this universe than Cara was more than willing to wait for it.

She sits in the chair, looking out the window. The ship had come out of hyperspace near the planet Din was on. The forest stretched for miles, the only openings she could in it see were lakes, rivers or man-made areas. Looking at the coordinates that the man gave her, she switched the ship out of autopilot and started to steer it towards the Razor Crest.

_________

Din hadn’t expected Cara to turn up only a day after their last holo. But he saw the ship carefully land in the clearing as he was working on the outside of the ship - out of view thankful of her being able to see him -, he knew that it couldn’t be anybody else. He moves inside to grab his helmet, hoping she wouldn’t come on to his ship. 

Soon after he puts it on, snapping the straps in place to keep it from coming off, he goes to walk down the Razor Crest’s ramp. He sees Cara standing at the edge of the woods, peering into as if she could somehow see which way Paz and his ad might have gone. He goes to stand next to her, feeling calm doing so.

She turns her head his way, giving him a look. One of understanding and determination. “I guess you haven’t tried to go after him?”

“No,” he says,” I couldn’t start.”

“You needed to keep your head on your shoulders,” She says, close to how the Armorer would have phrased it if the Matriarch were here. “So, why don’t we start? See where he and your little one might have gone?”

He nods yes. As he goes to take a step into the foreboding forest, Cara holds up an arm across his chest. Din looks down at it for a moment, blinking in surprise. “Where do you think you’re going?” She asks, amused. Grinning like she knew a secret that Din couldn’t even begin to guess at.

“To find my husband and ad,” Din said plainly. Like she didn’t understand what he was trying to do. He tries to move forward again and she stops him by grabbing his shoulder and pulling him back.

“We have one more person to wait for.”

“Who else could you have brought with you?” He asks, confused. “Not Greef, I hope.”

“Nope,” Cara said, her grin suddenly becoming wider. Suddenly Din didn’t feel so calm in her presence. “I brought her.”

As she points behind her, Din goes to look. He sees the familiar golden helmet of his leader gleaming in the sun as she walks off the other ship. She was without her usual fur cape, not needing it for this mission. She moved towards the two of them, more casual than Din ever saw of her, but he knew that she could easily take down whoever or whatever came at her in a moment's notice.

Somehow, Din had the feeling that both the Armorer and Cara were laughing at him despite being a few feet apart. That they knew something that he wasn’t clued in on. He looks between the two, he has to wonder. How close had they grown since he last left Nevarro and what it meant that the Armorer had tagged along with Cara. 

He got his answer in the form of a Keldabe kiss between the two women, surprising him how close they had gotten in a short amount of time. And yet, he knew that whatever relationship had formed between them was strong with the way he saw Cara looking into the Armorer’s visor. It was soft, filled with emotions that he saw of the other pairs in the Covert.

“You are not surprised,” Armorer said, tone calm as he’s always heard it. And yet, Din suspected that she was smiling, amused by him.

“Only at how quick it seemed,” He admits, truthfully. He could never lie to her, no matter how much he wanted to over the years. “You make a good pair together.”

“Aw, I was expecting you to freak out a bit,” Cara says, pouting playfully. “That’s the sole reason I brought her along.”

“Not because I would be helpful in tracking, ner dral?” Din widened his eyes at the pet name, at the teasing tone. Maybe it was because she was his leader or how she always presented herself as a calm and noble leader - or maybe with how much time he spent outside the Covert, hunting down bounties that he never got the chance, but he never heard her ever use a nickname or pet name with anyone that he knew.

“There it is, that’s what I was expecting!” Cara said, amused beyond anything. Somehow, she had gotten good at reading Din’s body language - perhaps she was always good at it or learned when spending time with the Armorer - and was now using it against him.

“Quit teasing him,” Armorer says softly. “We have work to do.”

“I will, I promise,” Cara says in the same voice, smiling at the Armorer. Din controls the urge to sigh and goes to step forward once more.

This time, nobody stopped him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Riduurok - love bond, specifically between spouses - marriage agreement  
> Buir - Mother or Father  
> Ad - son  
> Udesiir - relax, take it easy, calm down, find respite  
> Dral - bright, glowing, strong, powerful  
> Ner dral - my glowing
> 
> A bit of a shorter chapter, but I figured it would be a nice bit of a break since I'm bringing in two more characters. I loved writing the scene between Cara and the Armorer since I'm so soft for the ship and love them being supportive girlfriends of each other. I need some more content for them honestly, they're too cute to stay small.
> 
> Also, you can find me on my Star Wars blog, maul-antics either living blogging about watching The Clone Wars or some vague posts about what I'm writing for Trippin' Backwards. (Also my crush on Maul bc I am weak to that man lol.)
> 
> Anyway, hopefully it was a fun chapter to read! :D


	4. Chapter Four

They lead him down the hallway, watching him carefully from the side and behind him. Likely they were concerned that Paz would try to escape once he wasn’t in his cell, contained behind a force field and steel walls. He looks through the corner of his eye to the stormtrooper, noting that they were shorter than him by a full head. They were likely shorter without the helmet on, something that caused Paz to smirk for a moment at the thought - before forcing his face back to a severe frown.

They went down another hallway, similar to the one before right down to the same shade of grey on the walls. He heard the kid cooing behind him, trying to get his attention. Paz had to resist the urge to look behind him, knowing the stormtrooper beside him would force him to look forward. Unlike the one that guarded his cell, this one held their ground, staring at Paz through the black visor like they would scorch the metal beneath their feet if he didn’t comply.

When the whimpers of the kid reached his ears when he didn’t turn to greet them, his heart dropped, sinking down into his stomach. As they continued to make that sound, one of disappointment and confusion - being softly spoken to by the Jetti that they were fine did nothing to stop them. From wondering why their buir’s husband wasn’t looking at them. Wasn’t acknowledging that they were right behind him.

Paz after a few moments of hearing this, slipped up by turning his head, wanting to give them a look that said he wasn’t ignoring them on purpose. He only caught their eyes for a moment before the stormtrooper jostled him into looking forward again. Paz growled, teeth-baring for a moment but compiled all the same.

He was hotheaded, but he knew when fighting and rebelling would cause more trouble than it was worth. The kid was worth more than belligerent his way through the ship in a moment of anger.

Down another hallway before they reached a room that was supposed to negotiate deals between prisoners and captors. The stormtrooper led Paz into the room and moved him to the table that sat near the far wall. Paz was put on the other side of the table - where his back would press up against the wall, giving him a full view of the room and door -, sitting him down with so much force that nearly had him use his cuffed hands to take a swing. He glared up at them, lips twitching as if he were a cornered animal warning someone to back off before it was too late.

They just scoffed at him and went to stand by the door. The false Jetti entered, holding the ad’ika in his arms. They wildly flail their arms, excited to make eye contact with Paz. As they cooed and sighed happily - trying to climb their way out of Kel Dor’s arms - Paz calmed himself enough to give them a soft smile. 

That got them even more excited, trilling as the Jetti sat down. The kid was gently placed on the table and suddenly they were in front of Paz, making a motion that he knew to be the kid’s way of saying they wanted to be picked up and held.

Smiling, he leaned down to gently tap his forehead to theirs. Paz held a grimace in at the screech the kid let out but softened when they wrapped their arms around his forehead, squeezing as tightly as they could. “Ad’ika, I can’t hold you.” He says softly, hoping they would understand.

There was a sad sound as they tightened their grip even more. “I know, I know. But I can’t ad’ika.”

They let go of him and took a step back. Their big black eyes held so much sadness, all of it focused on him that Paz had to look away for a moment. He sees the stormtrooper and Jetti speaking quietly to each other and he narrowed his eyes. 

“Do you have some questions for me?” He asks angrily, getting their attention. “Or do you just want to stare at me because you think I’m so pretty?”

There was an annoying sounding scoff from the stormtrooper - which he expected with how they treated him. But the Jetti just stared at him like he was reading the thoughts that were swirling around in his head. Paz glared at the both of them, wanting to get this interrogation over with.

The kid makes a low sound, sad in a way that makes everything in Paz feel so bad for them being involved in this. He directs his attention back to them, lowering his head to the table for them to climb onto his shoulder. He might not be able to hold them as they wanted, but Paz could still give them something. It was better than sitting on the table, being used as a bargaining tool.

At least this way, he could be close to them, give them some kind of comfort.

The ad’ika got the message and climbed onto his shoulder. Slowly, he moved up, making sure their tiny hands had a grip on him as this happened. When he was fully sitting up, they snuggled closer to him, burying their head into his neck.

He resists smiling, turning his attention back to the two men across him. The Jetti was staring at him curiously and it made his hackles stand on end. He wasn’t going to be studied like this, not when he was trying to protect his husband’s ad. “What’re  _ you _ staring at, Jetti?” Paz rumbles out. “Never seen a buir interacting with his ik’aad?”

“I’ve heard of Mandalorians adopting children from all creeds, but never seen one so taken with one who could use the Force,” The Jetti says calmly. As if Paz was a harmless pet who was crabby rather than a man who could find several dozen ways of disarming or killing a person. “Where did you find them, if I may ask?”

“None of your business.” Paz answers. He wasn’t going to drag Din into this, at least not until the man came to break him out. “Ask me better questions than that.”

“Sir,” The stormtrooper says warningly. They were tense, one hand near their blaster at their hip. The Jetti holds a hand up, showing that he was in control.

“Commander Wolffe, patience.” This earned the Jetti a sigh, tired and annoyed all at once. The Kel Dor lowers his hand, still looking at Paz. 

“What does Death Watch plan to do with a Force-sensitive child, Mandalorian?” He asks, still calm. 

“What would Death Watch want to do with my ad? They have no interest, other than me being a good buir. I want to know what the Empire wants to do with them.” He directs back at the false Jetti, his anger starting to boil. The child tightens their grip around his neck, keeping him in the moment enough to not lung across the table.

“Empire?” The Jetti questions. As if he had no clue what has happened over the last fifty years - of what horrors Paz and his clan had seen at the hands of the Empire, of the Emperor.

A harsh breath in. And then “The Empire, Jetti. The one who caused the Purge of my people.” Paz said, strained so he doesn’t scream it at the two men. The child makes a low, sad sound and curls their claws into his neck. It stings, but Paz does nothing to stop it.

“What the kark are  _ you _ talking about?” The stormtrooper says, voice low. Their Jetti turns to stop them as they said, “There hasn’t been a Purge of Mandalorians, so whatever the Death Watch feed you for propaganda is all bantha shit.”

A breath.

A beat.

Then Paz lunges over the table, moving so that the kid only falls onto the table. He shoves the Jetti to the wall, holding onto their shoulders, hearing him hit it with a grunt as air escapes his lungs - unable to stop Paz in time. He smashes their body against the wall once, then twice and then was satisfied that the false Jetti wouldn’t interfere as he turns towards the trooper. 

He moves quickly, going after the stormtrooper, moving his arms so he could get his arms over their white plastoid helmet and around the stormtrooper’s neck. He lets loose a snarl as he forces the trooper to fall backwards, their back roughly hitting the metal flooring. Paz squeezes his arms together, finding it easier than trying to tear apart his cuffed hands to try choking them this way. 

There was a grunt and some movement by the trooper as they wrapped their legs around his waist. Snarling once more, he lifted them up with his joint hands and then slammed their head back down into the floor, the sound of the armour cracking against the metal. It hurt his hands to do that since it was beneath the trooper’s head and Paz wasn’t gentle. But Paz pushed past the momentary pain, the mantra of  _ ‘K’atini!’ _ repeating as he went to lift the trooper. There was a shout behind him as he roughly pushed them into the wall, ignoring his own pain once more.

He stared into the black visor, wondering where this person got off on denying what happened to his family and clan while using a design that the Mandalorians had created. That they could deny such a thing when it was the Empire that caused so much suffering, both for his own people and others. 

Paz was then being pushed by the stormtrooper with their feet. They had quickly planted their feet on his stomach and pushed to make him fall backwards. As he fell, the back of his head hit the bench of the table, causing his vision to become blurry for a few moments. His back roughly collides with the floor, breath leaving his lungs as he blinks his eyes to clear up his vision. But he didn’t stop moving, continued to move without a good reason to be stopped. As the stormtrooper moved to grab their blastor at their hip, Paz moved to gain the upper hand.

He got his feet underneath their hips and pushed up, causing them to scrabble for their weapon as they were lifted. Then he started to crush their windpipe with his arms, relishing in hearing the choked gasps beneath the red and white helmet and the feeling of their leather gloved hands trying to grip his forearms.

He moved his arms up, his hands almost reaching underneath the helmet. A sudden thought came to him and followed it. If the cheap knock offs were like the beskar armour, then that would mean that the clasps would be in the same place. It took a moment for his fingers to find it, but quickly he moved his arms backwards so that the helmet would be tossed off the stormtrooper.

It made a loud sound as it hit the floor, but Paz wasn’t paying attention to it. No, he was focused on the face before him, one that he had seen depicted in the few texts that his buir and the trainers had provided for him and his clanmates. It was the same as Jango Fett, the Mand’alor and the leader of the True Mandalorians from so many years ago.

Except for this man a scar on his face, running over one side of his face, going from his forehead to his cheek. It ran over the one eye which was a clouded white, telling Paz that this man wasn’t Jango. Jango didn’t have such scars, none of his stories telling him getting such an injury.

And he would never willingly work for the Jedi, not even a false one.

Paz stared, trying to figure out what was going on - why there was a Jango lookalike on an Empire ship. Before his brain could make a connection, a blade cut his cuffs and his arms were forced to the floor. His legs were also forced to the floor, making the man above him fall onto his body.

The imposter - that’s what it had to be, an imposter of one of the Mand’alore’s, that was the only thing that made sense currently - was thrown his helmet by something invisible, catching it without much struggle. There was a smirk on his face, staring down at Paz with one brown eye. Then with precision and speed, they slammed the plastoid helmet into his face.

Paz struggled against the invisible force, now hearing the cries of Din’s ad now that he had been literally knocked some sense into his head. Suddenly as the helmet crashed into his face, his heart plummeted to his stomach, knowing he caused the ad’ika to sound like that. Another hit and his vision start to become blurry. He heard light footsteps come near him, knowing it was the Jetti who was holding him down.

Maybe it wasn’t an imposter. Maybe it wasn’t a false Jetti.

Maybe Paz and the ad’ika was in a completely different place than when he last left Din.

One more hit to the head and he was out, embraced by darkness.

  
  


_________

  
  


Plo saw when the Mandalorian was knocked out, his body letting go of the tension that it had gained during the failed interrogation and the sudden fight. Wolffe - not satisfied that he wasn’t unconscious after being choked out by the man - continued to slam his helmet down on the man’s face. The little one cried out, holding their hands up in a way that worried Plo, a look of concentration taking over their face. 

“Wolffe, stop it!” He shouts, hoping to catch his commander’s attention before it was too late. The trooper stops, paused in the next hit to the Mandalorian’s face. He looks up at Plo, curious and confused about why he had to stop.

Plo moves to pick up the little one, holding them close to his chest. He sends out a feeling of calm to the child, hoping that would calm them down as he turns to face his commander once more. “Take him to Payback,” He says evenly, trying to keep everything calm.

“Sir, why would we fix him up after he attacked us?” Wolffe questions, standing up. He holds his helmet in his hands, a few new dents after being used as a stand-in bludgeon weapon. 

“Something isn’t right here, Wolffe. Not with any of this.” Plo said eventually. There was something not right here, not with how the Mandalorian or the child appeared nor with the answers that were given in the failed interrogation. 

There was only one Empire that Plo knew of and that was the Sith Empire that had ceased to exist for the last thousand years. But with the way that the Mandalorian sounded when asked to explain, it sounded so recent, so painful. There was something afoot here that didn’t make sense with all that Plo knew.

“Take him to Payback to make sure he can wake up soon.” He says, tone shifting closer to that of a general he was supposed to be than a Jedi Master. “I have questions to ask of him once I make a call to the Council.”

Wolffe didn’t question him further, calling Comet to come in to help him. Plo leaves the interrogation room, sensing Comet’s hesitation through the Force as he passed by the soldier. Quietly, he and the child head up to the bridge, trying to keep them calm as they head away from their father. Plo had seen how they had kept the man calm, grounding him in a way that spoke of being familiar with such actions - maybe even with a partner or spouse as a model for them to copy?

Either way, it had kept the Mandalorian calm until Wolffe’s comment, blunt and filled with suspicion about what was being spoken about. It must have been rough for the child to feel such anger at close range. Plo had a feeling despite understanding what the child was, the Mandalorian had no idea how to train the child to control or manage their powers with the Force. But even with that, the man clearly cared for the child.

He sends the feeling of calm and something soothing, hoping that it would settle them down for the call he would have to make and for next time they would have to see their father. 

Unexpectedly, he receives the sensation of worry and confusion from the child. He pauses in the middle of the hallway, looking down at them with curiosity. Their black eyes, still filled with so much emotion that Plo was taken aback by the intensity that was directed at him. If they hadn’t been adopted by their prisoner, Plo would have taken them in a heartbeat.

He smiles at this thought, knowing Mace would try and sway him from doing such a thing - even if he had already drawn up the forms to try and get the Wolfpack to be his sons legally before. He’d watched as the man he considered a friend had to keep a blank face when faced with all the forms that Plo had filled out. There were so many as there were many clones under his command, each with who he had talked to and gotten to know in this war.

Mace had kept calm, but Plo still knew that the man was still internally sighing as he gave the forms back to Plo.  _ ‘Not the right time, Master Plo.’ _

_ ‘When would that time be, Mace?’ _ He had asked, curious. Plo had only wanted to do what was right and this had felt right, the Force even sang when he handed the forms off to the man in front of him.  _ ‘When is the right time to do what is right for these men?’ _

Mace had no answer to that question. Neither did Plo despite him trying what he did.

Plo starts walking down the hallway once more, determined to find out the mystery of the Mandalorian and his child. Eventually, he enters the room where official channels had been set up on the ship. Some of the soldiers were there, making sure the equipment was working. They were talking loudly, joking with one another and it made Plo smile.

Some of them saluted him, while the others gave a shout of hello as they were underneath the consoles, checking the wires and other bits that made it functional. There was a droid to the side, warbling an answer to one of the soldiers that was working. The child perked up, curious to see everyone in the room.

“You need to send a message out, sir?” One of the soldiers asked. Click was his name, obviously a bit shy in interacting with a Jedi directly since he was from a newer batch that had joined the 104th. Though he was obviously taken with the child, smiling down at them and giving a small wave.

Smiling as the child waved back, Plo said,” I need to message with Master Windu. There were complications with our prisoner.”

“Right, sir.” Click said. As Plo goes to stand near the comm, he hears Click call for the astromech. “Q7-7H, connect us to Master Windu, please.”

The droid, Q7, made a warbling sound, an affirmative with the way Click smiled brightly. The red droid rolled over to Plo, connecting itself to the console. The child moved an arm, waving it as they tried to reach the Q7 from Plo’s arms. Plo leaned over, letting them touch the top of the droid’s head. 

Cooing at the droid, the child continued to move their hands over the mech, curious. Q7, twisted their head to see the child and warbled at them, obviously talking to the little one. Plo watched as they held a small conversation, understanding each other somehow. 

Then the droid made a sound that Plo had learned throughout the war that they were done. Plo straightens up, making sure that the child didn’t float themselves over to Q7. The lights of the holodeck flickered for a few moments before the image of Mace and Master Kenobi appeared. 

“It is good to see you, Master Windu, Master Kenobi,” Plo says. They looked down at the child in his arms for a moment but said nothing as they greeted him back.

“We’re glad to hear from you, Master Koon,” Master Kenobi says, diplomatic as always. “It is too soon to hear a mission report, however.”

“I called because I need someone to come to my ship to help me with a prisoner,” Plo said, catching the two men’s attention. “We thought we stumbled upon a member of Death Watch, but when I interrogated him today, he revealed more questions than answers for why he suddenly appeared and had this child.”

“They’re force-sensitive,” Mace states, looking down at the child once more. “Did you get anything that could lead us towards an answer?”

“The Mandalorian mentioned an Empire that wanted to have the child when asking what the Death Watch wanted.”

Mace furrows his brow at that, concerned with what was being said. Master Kenobi speaks up with a questioning tone. “Do you know who they are? They might be distracting us from any movements the Death Watch might be taking.”

“No, he got enraged before I could question anything further out of him.” Plo answers. He shifts the child, placing them on his shoulder to give his arms a rest.

“I’ll send Obi-Wan to help you question the prisoner. There is something not right here.” Mace says calmly.

Plo nods, agreeing. “There is something more to this situation. Hopefully, Master Kenobi can help us get a clearer image.”

“Good, I’ll be there as soon as I can,” Master Kenobi said, a bit lighter than moments before. The holodeck flickers and the connection has been cut. 

Q7 gives a sound and Plo pats the top of the droid’s head. “You did a good job. I’m sure Click will check you over.” He watches in amusement as the droid excitedly sings and rolls over to the clone in question, exclaiming things to the clone. 

Plo doesn’t stick around to hear the conversation. Once more he shifts the child, holding them in his arms. Then the two of them made their way down to the medbay to see how Payback was treating the Mandalorian.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jetti - Jedi  
> Buir - Mother or Father  
> Ad'ika - Little One  
> Ik'aad - baby, a child under three  
> K'atini - Suck it up! or: It's only pain!
> 
> I'm sorry for no update last week. I got sick for a few days and just couldn't write since staring at a screen and trying to put words into a document wasn't going to happen. Thankfully, I'll make it up by trying to squeeze in two updates this week. Especially since I won't have much longer before I start the Fall semester at the end of August. 
> 
> Anyway, I loved having to write Paz actually fighting and figuring out that something wasn't right. It was fun and I got to expand on writing action! Also, yes, I'm having Obi-Wan join in the story, I figured it would be fun to have him interrogate Paz since he's such a flirt lol. It'll be fun when he joins the Wolf Pack in the next few chapters. Also, I loved having Baby Yoda interacting with a mech, it was too cute to pass up. 
> 
> You can find me on Tumblr under the name, maul-antics where I post about Star Wars and live blog whatever SW comic I'm going through. I also post updates and memes about writing this fic since that's the best place to hear about it.
> 
> Anyway, hopefully this was a fun chapter to read! :d


	5. Chapter 5

Searching through the forest proved easier than expected. Even with the roots growing bigger as they headed deeper into the woods and the darkness swallowing everything in sight. For one, with the aid of the lights on Din and Armorer’s helmets as they swept over the forest floor and in the darker distance ahead, the three of them could see Paz’s footprints and track them. For another, as they walked further into the forest - darkness creeping in slowly as the top of the trees started to grow closer together, blocking out the light as plantlife becoming gigantic out of nowhere - Din noted that there were slashes on the plants that continued on after a point. 

He doesn’t pause to stare at it, he takes it as a sign that’s where his husband, his riduur had come through here and was close by. He moves with purpose, keeping an ear out for Paz and child. He also keeps an ear to his other two companions in case they found anything. The motions become quicker, almost crazed at the thought that the trail they were following in the forest would show his husband and child, safe. A few scrapes and bruises, but otherwise safe.

That is until Din saw Paz’s jetpack after crawling over a root. It laid in ruins, all-black soot and showing signs of a forced explosion with a hole punctured into the metal. This causes him to pause, to take in the scene that surrounded it. Surrounding the jetpack was soot and charred ground, showing that what came from the supposed expulsion was a fire - one that was allowed to spread, to consume the plantlife close by. This leads to him seeing the dead creatures close by.

They were small in height and light in weight, obviously something that could fly with the feathers that covered the arms and body. There were claws on the tip of their fingers and toes, made for quick attacks that obviously went after Paz’s jetpack and must have caused a puncture in the metal of it.

Din takes this all in, noting that in the scattered bodies of the unknown feathered creatures no familiar footprints were leading away from the area. He was pulled out this thought when a hand placed itself on his shoulder. He looks to see that it’s Cara, taking in the scene as well. The Armorer is next to her, doing the same thing.

Then Cara speaks up. “We have to check the bodies.”

“You think there’s something else here?” Din asks, watching as the Armorer moves over to one of the bodies, shifting it from its position of laying down front first onto it’s back to examine it better. “It looks to be an attack, focused only on Paz.”

“A good assertion,” The Armorer says, calm and poised as the leader he knew her to be. One of her gloved hands moved to the face of the creature, moving it’s closed eyelids open. “However, by looking further, we can garner details of what happened and where it can lead us to Paz and the child.”

“It’ll take time.” He says.  _ ‘Time we don’t have,’ _ is what goes unsaid and the two Mandalorians know it.

She looks up at him, staring him beneath her golden helmet. It was a look that Din was familiar with, one that spoke of her command over the clan without having to speak or raise her voice to get the person’s attention. “We shouldn’t rush even if it feels dire to do so. I sense there is more to this than what we expect.”

“There looks to be more to it than we expected here,” Cara said, finally speaking up as she wandered over to the Armorer. She kneels beside the Mandalorian, looking down at the feathered creature with some interest.

With a sigh, Din went to find another body near the two women, figuring that she wouldn’t halt their search for something needless. She had been the leader of the clan, keeping even Paz in line with only a look or calmly spoken speech. The Armorer knew what she was doing, so much better than others would have handled it in her position during such a time.

He hears them talking to each other, offering up possible theories of what had happened as he went to examine a body. There was a slash across its chest, one made by a vicroblade - and was likely that it was still on Paz’s person. There was dried blood that encrusted the wound and that had made its way down to its stomach and legs. The dry blood in the feathers made it stiff and with his helmet covering his face, Din got a whiff of the iron smell that made his nose wrinkle.

Carefully, he moves the arms and legs, looking to see if there was anything else. There was nothing. That made him move the creature onto it’s back, to see if there were any clues there. That’s when Din noticed the way the creature’s neck didn’t hold the head up, letting it flop around as the body shifted. More so than it was supposed to with a dead body.

Almost as if the neck has been broken.

Din had seen creatures similar to this one that when its neck was broken, it would flop around, unable to stop the swinging motion of the head as it was moved. Moving his hands around its neck, he felt for the break, trying to understand what might have caused it. 

Paz, while a strong man and had his share of skills that could bring another person down, didn’t seem to be in the mindset of killing the creatures this way if they were attacking him. No, Paz would go for the vicroblade, stabbing and slashing at the creatures that would cause them the most harm as this one showed signs of.

Which left one person. 

The child.

Din sighed, dropping the body back to the ground. “I have a theory,” He says, catching their attention. Cara gives him a look, all curiosity as she waits for him to speak up. The Armorer sits back, continuing to hold the feathered creature in his hands.

“From the way the neck has been broken,” He says, picking up the creature in front of him once more. He demonstrates by letting the head and neck swing from side to side. “I’d say the kid helped Paz escape these creatures with their powers.”

“Then where do you think they went if they had finished off the creatures? They would have returned to the ship if that were the case.” Cara said.

“Either they were tracking something or else chased one of the creatures when it ran off.” He offers as an explanation. 

“Then that would mean there are footsteps somewhere, perhaps a distance away from the scene,” The Armorer said, putting pieces together with what Din found.” If your ad’ika was a strong as you claimed them to be, then they could help Paz over the roots much easier than letting Paz do all the work himself.”

“Then let’s search the edges and see if we can find any footprints. They couldn’t have gone far, this is Paz and your kid we’re talking about,” Cara said, smiling. “The two are a pair that are never far from each other.”

“I think they’re a menace to others when together.” He says, deadpanning. He had seen what those two together had gotten up to when they decided to do their own plan. Usually, it involved getting Din to buy a new toy for the ad, nothing of what this scene suggested.

Cara smiles, all knowingly that made Din raise an eyebrow in questioning. The Armorer is the one to say anything. “It also means that we shouldn’t worry too much if they find themselves in trouble.”

“Let’s just find those footprints.

_________

  
  


He woke to his body unusually numb and blind white lights. There was talk going on around him, muffled for a few minutes as Paz tried to keep his eyes open. Each time he tried to keep them open, they closed shut either from the bright, blinding white lights or how he felt too drugged to do so. After trying for the tenth time Paz gives up for the time being and focuses on what is being spoken around him. 

The conversation still sounded muffled, most likely to whatever drugs were in his system muting his senses. But he tries to focus on whatever details he could glean from hearing the voices. What he notices is that there are only two and they sound the same. The _exact_ same. There were inflections, differences that he could follow if he focused hard enough. 

The one voice had more of timber to it, deeper over some parts than the other when speaking. Likely the commander that beat him in the head with their helmet, here to keep an eye on him. The other voice when speaking was softer, close to how the medic in the Covert would speak when dealing with the family members of whoever was being treated.

Paz scrunches, his face, wondering where the Jetti had put him. He tries to open his eyes again, forcing them to stay open even as he experienced a dizzying effect from doing so. He turns his head to take in his surroundings, the dizzy feeling doubling for a moment as he did this. 

Everything had a blur to it as he looked, but he saw two people standing a few feet away from his slab, their backs to him as they talked. They were of similar height, both wearing that plastoid armour that evoked the image of the Stormtroopers of the Empire. Whoever they were, whatever they were doing, Paz hoped they were ready for when he wasn’t drugged and ready to run off with the kid.

That’s when one of them decided to turn, saying something in exclamation as they noticed that he was awake. Paz focused on them, watching as they came over to his slab. They were speaking, words starting to form, sounding more clear now. Even if the sentences were broken and his mind trying to fight against the drug to figure out what the words strung together mean.

“Shouldn’t - awake yet, - back to - now.”

“Huh?” Confusion settled in his mind as he heard this, wondering why he was here and why he didn’t have Din’s kid in his arms. “Why am I here? Where’s the kid?” 

Even Paz knew what he said was slurred, but he didn’t care, he wanted answers. “What have  _ you _ done to me? Where’s  _ my _ kid?” He demanded. His body was finally complying with him, starting to move even if it was slower and more sluggish than what he wanted for getting up.

That’s when he finally got the notice that his arms and legs had been tied down to the slab. Keeping him there until they decided when he was allowed to get up. This would not be acceptable, not when he was possibly surrounded by the enemy and Din’s ad wasn’t anywhere in sight. 

“Let me  _ go!” _ Paz bellows, anger flooding in.

“No, you’re - you need to rest.” The voice says, sounding firm. “ - down.”

_ “No!” _ He shouts, straining against the hold on his arms and legs. There was a creaking sound as this happened, but he had to get out. Paz had to get out, find the kid. 

The voice said something, but Paz didn’t listen to it, more focused on getting out. Then there was someone holding down his shoulders, preventing him from squirming. He tries to push against them, but they force him down the slab, leaving no room for him to gain the upper hand.

“This - administer - you. You need - sleep.”

Paz shouts in response to this, trying to move against whoever was pushing him into the slab. There was a feeling of something pricking his arm - a needle, most likely his mind supplies - and Paz raged against that as well. There was a shout, rough and low and suddenly there were hands on his left arm where the needle was.

He tries to move, to gain some kind of ground as everything starts to stack against him. But the more he fought the less his body seemed to go along with it. His eyelids flutter close after a minute of this, suddenly so tired. His body slumps against the slab, with no energy left to fight. The hold on his shoulders and arm were gone after this.

“Where’s my kid?” He asks once more before everything went numb and black.

_________

Plo finds the medbay in chaos. Commander Wolffe is next to the slab that the Mandalorian was sleeping on, looking frazzled as he looks down at their prisoner, still breathing hard. Payback is also breathing hard, holding an empty needle in his hand. Plo takes in the scene, wondering what had happened. There were a few moments of confusion and anger that he had felt when walking to the medbay - from all three men. But nothing that could explain what he was seeing.

The child squirms in his arms, whining low. Plo sends them a feeling of calm to them and he walks towards the two clones with worry. He ends up standing at the end of the slab holding the unconscious Mandalorian, looking towards his men. “What’s happened here, Commander?”

“He woke up and wasn’t happy about it,” Wolffe said. He then looks up to Plo, looking wiped. “He was yelling about the kid.” Payback agrees by nodding with Wolffe.

“The drugs didn’t help with his state,” Plo says, taking in both of the clones' reactions as he answers.

The clone medic nods, sighing. “He needed to be put back to sleep for the time being. General, sir, I think he might react better if the child was allowed to be near him when he wakes up again.”

“Out of the question, Payback,” Wolffe said, answering before Plo had the chance to. He glared at the other clone, standing up from the empty slab. “You saw him now, he would only endanger the child when he woke up again.”

“He was asking for them, Wolffe. He won’t intentionally harm them if he can see that they’re with him.” Payback says back, not backing down from Wolffe’s hard stare. The medic had been with the Wolfpack since the aftermath of the killings of thousands of clones done by General Grievous at the start of the war and knew how to handle his commander.

This standoff, however, causes the child to start squirming again, uncomfortable to feel such hostile energies at such a range. They were so young and inexperienced, the Force just there, making its way into the child’s hands like they understood to use it. It made Plo hold them close to his chest, trying to calm them down enough to keep them from welling with tears at the intense stimulation.

“I agree with Payback. The Mandalorian should be allowed to see his child when waking up. It would prove to offer the branch of peace instead of force.” Plo said, catching both of the clones' attention. “Besides, Payback outranks you in these kinds of matters, Commander Wolffe.”

“Of course you would say that sir,” Wolffe said with the roll of his eyes. He sighs and moves towards the door, clearly looking to be out of sight. “I’m going to check on the rest of the troop. Com me if anything goes wrong.”

“I will Wolffe.” The man leaves, his footsteps echoing down the hallway.

Plo turns back to Payback, watching as the medic leans against the slab with the Mandalorian on it. He looks tired, worn even with suggesting that the child stay. Plo moves to stand near the clone, waiting for the man to look up at him. The soft coo of the child gets Payday’s attention, looking at them with a small smile on his face.

The child doesn’t flinch when Payday moves to pat the top of their head, smiling wide when the clone scratches behind one of their big green ears. Plo felt the intense joy that the child was putting out into the Force, the way it curled around both him and Payback, influencing their overall mood.

Learning, even if it was unintentional. He had many questions for Master Yoda.

“They’re a cute little tike,” Payback says, smiling. He pats the child’s head once more and then drops his hand to his side. “Do you think the Mandalorian will let me check them over once he wakes up?”

“It’s unclear what the Mandalorian will do,” Plo says truthfully. “his only goal is to keep the child safe and make sure to keep all of us in the dark. A good starting point will be to let him have his child so he can gain trust.”

“Something he said in interrogation didn’t make sense, Wolffe said.”

“Yes. He mentioned an Empire, one that caused a purge of the Mandalorians.”

“That makes no sense, sir.”

Plo nods in agreement. “No, but he experienced something and I want to understand what it was. I wonder how Master Kenobi will fair when he interrogates them.”

“Either hate or love, sir.” Payback says with a grin. It causes Plo to do the same, familiar with Kenobi’s way of interacting with the enemy in battle. A wink and flirting comment, something that made him memorable. Too memorable in some cases.

“Indeed.” He says, moving to place the child on the slab. 

They blinked a few times when noticing they weren’t being carried. Then they toddled along, moving up the slab towards the Mandalorian’s head. They stopped by the arm, going to climb onto the Mandalorian’s body with their little three-fingered hands. There was a great effort for them to pull their body up, but both he and Payback watched in silence, not moving to help.

The child stands on the Mandalorian's arm, looking over at them for a moment. Then they move onto the man’s chest and lays down. They curled in on themselves, going to take a nap with their father.

Plo sits down on the ground next to the slab, busying himself by taking a datapad he had in robe - something that Wolffe had snuck to him when he wasn’t paying attention earlier - and starting to type up his mission report. He had to get Mace’s favour when this was all over.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Riduur - spouse, partner, wife, husband  
> Ad'ika - little one  
> Jetti - Jedi
> 
> The second update for this week as I promised! I'll be back on track next week with a single update since I most likely won't be knocked out by a fever. I don't have too much to say this update since I'm tired and want to see a bed lol. If you want to see my vague updates about this fic (or any other one-shot I do for Star Wars) on Tumblr, I'm maul-antics. 
> 
> Anyway, hopefully, this was a fun chapter to read! :D


	6. Chapter Six

He stands with his commander on the bridge, watching through the window for a few brief moments as the stars and planets pass them by as fast-moving white lights of hyperspace. It was a pretty sight even as it became a familiar occurrence over the last year in this war. Once he starts to feel his eyes strain in making sense of it, Obi-wan looks away to the console at his side. Cody brings up the file that Master Plo has sent to them, taking in the notes that were gathered about this mysterious Mandalorian. 

The picture attached to the file is the prisoner, showing the man’s face. It’s sullen, brows furrowing in irritation despite being asleep when it was being taken. Along with the photo are the notes that Plo typed up. The Kel Dor noted in the file that the man was found falling from the sky on the last mission that the Wolf Pack was on and that Master Plo had softened the man’s landing. When going to check on them, Master Plo saw that the Mandalorian had a child who was Force-Sensitive and caring for them as if they were one of his own. 

When knocked out by Commander Wolffe, both Master Plo and his commander saw that the mysterious Mandalorian wore a signet of Death Watch on the shoulder of his armour. Obi-wan had to wonder how a man caring for a Force Sensitive child was associated with the terrorist organization - one that threatened war and death towards Satine in the past. How he could care for a child in such an environment, surrounded by Mandalorians who hated both the Jedi and the New Mandalorians was a mystery to Obi-Wan. 

Obi-Wan continues to stare at the picture, pondering how this all came to be. Master Plo’s judgment that there was more to this prisoner than what they were seeing was starting to make sense in his mind. The statements that were given in the failed interrogation, the situation around the Mandalorian and child, the supposed connection to Death Watch when he spoke to Master Windu and Obi-wan a few hours ago. All of it wasn’t making sense together, so there had to be a different explanation that they weren't seeing.

Which is why Master Windu had sent him. To get an answer out of the man to make sense of it all. His skills in negotiations and other political areas that he had used before the start of the war were useful in getting hostile parties to talk to each other and set up agreements within the Republic.

This Mandalorian was as hostile as they come from the descriptions that Master Plo had given.

Obi-wan sighs, looking away from the profile, rubbing a hand over his face. Cody gives him a worried look but keeps still, waiting for him to speak up.

“I have a feeling that whatever comes out of this interrogation won’t be normal.” He says quietly. His tone tired as he closed the file on the Mandalorian. No use in trying to gleam answers out of a holo document when there wasn’t much to connect to anything together.

“Is it ever, sir?” Cody says, equally quiet. “You and Skywalker are always getting yourselves into weird situations.”

Obi-wan smiles, remembering a few examples within the last few months. “While true Commander, there is more to this that doesn’t seem to add up. There are too many gaps and not enough detail to connect to anything that would make sense.”

Cody nods in agreement, looking Obi-wan in the eye. Then the clone steps closer, bringing the file back up on the console. Obi-wan watches as his commander looks over the file, the man’s eyes narrowing as he reads the words. 

Minutes pass and Obi-wan waits for Cody to speak up. He looks around the bridge, at the other members of 212th Battalion silently working at their stations along with the regular troopers that maintained and kept the ship running. They were working in sync, keeping an eye for anything unusual aboard the ship. 

He looks back to Cody when the man sighs, similar to Obi-wan only a few minutes before. “I don’t know sir, I don’t know what will come out of talking to him. But make sure to keep safe.”

“That’s why you’re coming with me, Cody,” Obi-wan says, smiling softly. “To keep me safe and mostly out of trouble.”

Cody rolls his eyes, but there’s a smile threatening to come onto his face that tells Obi-wan that it was done with fondness. “Sir, I doubt anything could keep trouble away from you.”

“Not even my reliable Commander?”

“Especially not me, sir.”

Obi-wan smiles. “A shame, I do think a less crazy mission would be nice for once.”

“You saying that guarantees that something will happen,” Cody says, exasperated. Like he had seen the pattern between him and Anakin too many times. Which considering what was on more than half of their mission reports between the two of them - and Ahsoka - might give way to such a reaction.

He laughs lightly and steps closer to his commander. Nothing more was spoken between them, only standing close to each other as they waited out the last few hours of their trip.

_________

Paz wakes up much slower than last time and in much less pain. As he opens his eyes, blinking a few times at the white lights of the room, he takes notice of something laying on his chest. He tilts his head up - taking note that he can’t move his arms or legs since they’re being restrained - looking to see the child sleeping on his chest. They’re curled into a ball, big ears drooping, shifting ever so slightly as they continue to sleep on.

Smiling softly, he lets his head fall back to the slab, wondering where these people had taken him on their ship. Moving side to side, Paz sees medical equipment - advanced medical equipment - and other empty slabs that were near his. On one of those slabs was a man, sitting as he read over a datapad with interest. He didn’t wear much plastoid, only shoulder and knee pads, the rest a black undersuit that kept the plastoid armour from rubbing the skin - and probably helped keep the armour from smelling too much.

Paz also took in the side profile of the man’s face, almost the same as Jango Fett’s. Though the man looked to be a bit younger and looked to be kinder than the previous Mand’alore when he died on Geonosis. There was something to this that wasn’t making sense. He couldn’t be Jango, couldn’t be the leader that his buir and teachers had spoken about when they taught about the man.

There was something, something that was niggling him at the back of his mind to make the connection. But that something wasn’t clicking. Maybe it was due to being repeatedly hit in the head over the past few hours or just the after-effects of the drugs making him slower than usual. Whatever it was, it wasn’t going to happen on its own.

“What’s your name?” He asks suddenly. His voice cracks, unused for a while and dry without drinking water despite being in what he assumes to be a medbay. 

He watches as a startled expression comes over the man’s face and that he nearly drops the datapad from his hands. The man looked over at him, still startled, but also adding bewildered as well into the mix. “You’re awake?” He asks Paz, moving to stand. 

“Yes. Now tell me your name.” Paz demands. 

“I’m Payday,” The man says cheerfully enough, setting the datapad down next to himself. “I’m the medic for the Wolf Pack.” 

Paz furrows his brow, wondering how the man got such a name. He continues to watch Payday as the man shuffles around the medbay, grabbing items and another datapad. Then he comes over to Paz and starts to check him over. Paz didn’t make a fuss, used to this routine with the medic at the Covert.

It was as Payday checked his pupils that the child woke up. Paz felt them shifting on his chest, stretching as they began to wake from their nap. He had to resist the urge to look at them for a few moments while the medic flashed the light in his eyes despite wanting to make sure they weren’t going to toddle off the slab.

“Your eyes check out,” Payday says, typing something into the datapad. The child moves to his neck, sliding down his shoulder to hug him despite the action restricting his airways. Paz puts up with it for a few moments, liking the closeness that the child was trying to provide since he couldn’t move.

Then he softly says, “Ad’ika, I need you to let go.” There was a soft whine, one that told Paz that they didn’t want to. “You have to, I can’t breathe.” Another whine, but with reluctance, they let go.

He turns his head to face them, sighing when he’s met with big, sad black eyes. “I’m fine, ad’ika, just can’t move.”

They gave a low sound, ears drooping low as a way to convey their unhappiness at this fact. Before he can say anything to them - to give some kind of comfort to them -, Payday is back, holding a device in his hand as he stands over Paz. Paz reluctantly turns his head towards the man, wondering what would be next. 

“I need you to promise you won’t try to escape when I take the restraints off of you.” He says, looking Paz in the eyes. “I need to check that you didn’t pull anything from before.”

“I give you my word that I won’t,” Paz said. He has vague memories of what Payback was talking about, the anger and the thrashing as he tried desperately to find the kid. “I won’t escape without the kid anyway.”

The medic smiled as if he knew that’s what Paz would answer. He held the device over the restraints over his wrists, checking to make sure that they hadn’t dug into the skin. Then he aided Paz in sitting up, making sure to keep the kid from climbing to his lap until Paz was steady. Paz moved to pet between the kid’s ears, smiling softly when they chirped and cooed at the attention.

Payback moved the device over his ankles and repeated the process once more. Paz watched as the man kept looking at the child while doing so, wonderment in the medic’s eyes. Even as he passed by to get to his datapad, there was a soft smile on his face when the kid cooed at him.

It was as he went to type something in the datapad that Paz spoke up once more. “You can hold them if you want.”

Payday paused in his typing, looking over at Paz. “You’re sure about that?” He asks, cautious.

Paz nods, picking the kid up in his arms. “I’m sure. They like you.”

He hands them over to the medic, keeping an eye on the two as he moves to plant his feet on the floor. The floor was cool, but it was a welcoming change after everything that’s happened on the ship. Paz doesn’t move to stand, just continues to sit as the medic and the kid interact with each other.

It was sight similar to Din and the ad’ika interacting with each other in the lulls of travelling. Often they spoke quietly to each other even if they were a short distance away from him. It was nonsense, nothing that could be called a conversation and yet it made Paz happy to see those two happy with each other. It tugs at Paz’s heart to remember such a scene when the two of them were so far from Din.

He looks to see Payday staring at him, a bit worried and cautious. “What is it?”

“I was wondering if I could check them out. One of the medics at the Temple was able to send me a file on Master Yoda so I could compare it with the little tike.” The medic said. He starts to shift side to side when Paz doesn’t answer, holding the kid closer to his body.

Paz sighs, figuring that it couldn’t hurt. Even Din and Paz weren’t able to do that for the kid, making sure that they weren't ill in some way when escaping the Imps. They didn’t even know what the kid was. “You can. Just make sure to keep them in front of me at all times.”

“No problem, just let me get the equipment.” Payday says, handing the kid back to him. Paz once more watches as the man goes to find the stuff he needs. The kid lightly hits his chest, making a delighted sound when Paz says  _ ‘ouch’ _ mildly at each hit.

Payday comes back, laying down the equipment on the slab next to the one Paz was sitting on. He was muttering something as he put the two datapads next to each other, reading whatever was on them. Paz continues to play with the kid, smiling when they let out their giggles.

Then Payday turned around, holding something in his hand. “Can you hold them for a moment?”

Paz nods yes and does as the medic says. They repeat this process each time Payday uses a new device, making sure that the kid didn’t struggle too much in Paz’s hold. As they neared the end of the check-up, the kid started to whine. It started low but grew louder the longer this went on, letting the two men knew how uncomfortable they were.

Paz starts to hum a lullaby, one that his buir had sung to him when he was an ad’ika himself. It calmed them somewhat, even more so when they heard him start to sing softly in Mando’a. The lullaby was a story about a warrior who lived long ago who saved a village from a terrible beast. It was one of the kid’s favourites, always demanded at bedtime when it was Paz’s turn to put them to bed. They still let out a whine here or there, but it was softer, not sounding as uncomfortable as before. 

When Payday was finished, Paz let go of the kid, watching them race around on the slab and crawling over his lap. Like they had to get rid of all the energy that had built up when they were forced to stay still. At some point they slowed down enough to stand at the edge of the slab near Paz, looking down at the ground with an interest that said they were going to jump.

Paz didn’t do anything to stop them, knowing they would be contained to the room and that anything that could harm them was out of reach. As they jumped down, Payday turned around, shock colouring the medic’s face as he saw the kid use the Force to soften their landing.

Once firmly on the floor, they let out a screech and went running around as they had before on the slab. Paz looks to the man, smirking as he sees the shock still on the medic’s face. “Kids, right?” He says jokingly.

“Yeah, kids. Force-sensitive kids,” Payback says, leaning against the other slab. 

It was funny enough to snicker at, knowing what was flashing through the man’s mind. Paz went through it before when he started to hang around Din and the kid, having his mind break a couple of times before the weirdness of the situation sunk in.

That’s when the Jedi showed themselves in.

_________

  
  


She stuck close to the Armorer, watching as Din walked ahead, his light sweeping the forest floor. They were following the footprints of Paz, spying them after searching the area with the dead feathered creatures. The footprints went in a straight path, for the most part, only veering off in a different direction when another set of footprints went in the same way. 

Cara had her theories about what this meant but knew Din wasn’t in the mood to hear them. He was more focused on finding his husband and child than the details of this particular journey.

She waits until Din gets a few more feet ahead before deciding to talk to the Armorer. “So, you think Paz went on a half-crazed hunt with the kid when there was only one of those things left?”

The Armorer doesn’t hesitate in giving Cara an answer.”Yes.”

“Elaborate?” Cara asks. She could sense that the Zebrak was smiling, amused by Cara’s curiosity for the details about the clan members that she once led.

“Paz is very headstrong about certain issues and proud the rest of the time,” Armorer says, her words carefully picked as when Cara first saw her. More like a leader of the Covert of Mandalorians and less Cara’s girlfriend. “Even with not officially adopting the child, he has taken up the duty of being a buir to them when marrying Din.”

“So, he’s very opinionated and likes to appear like the right one all the time?” Cara said, smiling. Her smile grows even wider when she sees the other woman’s shoulders shake for a brief moment - as if forcing herself not to laugh out loud. “I’m right, aren’t I?”

“Yes. But he is a good man, has done much to protect his clan and the Covert even with his flaws.” She says to Cara, warmth in her voice. It was the same way the Armorer got when she spoke about the other members of the Covert - those who were able to flee in time and those who didn’t.

Cara didn’t say anything in response to that, only moved her hand so she could hold her girlfriend’s hand. The Armorer didn’t say anything about this, only squeezed lightly.

They continued to follow the trail of footprints, making sure to stick close enough to see each other’s lights. At some point, the forest started to thin out again, letting in light from the canopies and not having the trio battle with the underbrush. Cara and the Armorer began to speed up their walking to keep up with Din who seemed set on getting to the endpoint quickly.

When they reached a natural opening with a crumbling stone building in the middle of it, Din couldn’t hold back and went sprinting into it. The Armorer sighed but didn’t waste time following after the man. Same with Cara, keeping pace with her girlfriend as they tried to keep the man in their sight.

There were strange markings on the wall, faded as it was. The floor was stone, covered in dirty footprints of both Paz and the feathered creatures. The claw marks on the wall also indicated that the feathered creatures that lived here had made a nest where nobody was living. If they weren’t chasing after Din, Cara was sure that they would have studied them for a moment to see what it could mean. 

There was also the unsettling feeling that settled deep in her gut that there was something off about this place. She was sure that the Armorer could sense it as well even as they ran through the hallways. There wasn’t anything right with this place, almost as if it were haunted.

Soon they saw Din entering a room that was shrouded in darkness and it caused the feeling in her gut to double. She and the Armorer slowed down as they neared the entrance of the room. They couldn’t see in the darkness swallowing everything except for Din’s helmet. They looked at each other as if sensing that there wasn’t something right with what they were seeing in front of them. 

The Zebrak moves to hold her hand, squeezing it. “Let’s go after the utreekov, ner dral.” 

Cara nodded. They carefully went to enter the room, hoping there wasn’t anything that was going to set off on them. The Armorer clicked her light back on and found Din frantically searching the room.

They stopped near a small round structure in the middle of the room, watching as they saw the Mandalorian in front of them searching for a clue to where his husband and kid were. A different feeling settled into Cara’s gut, the one that she had become familiar with since her time in the Rebellion army.

She didn’t say anything, knowing her words wouldn’t come out right or be a comfort to the man right now. She watched as her girlfriend moved to Din, standing close to him. When he looked to see his leader standing silently, there was a sound that escaped him. It was hurt, anger and disappointment all rolled into one thing, desperate to find the two things that brought him happiness.

He moved to stand close to the Armorer. They weren’t going to hug, nor touch each other. But perhaps, Din found comfort in having his leader be close enough, offering guidance in a stressful situation when he was ready to speak.

It made Cara realize how much the woman had done the same with her without ever making it obvious. The Armorer was used to being a shoulder to cry on, the person to speak to when you were experiencing trouble. Who did she have to turn to when something plagued her mind? 

Maybe she learned to deal with herself, maybe one of the members had been close enough to her to speak about those things. 

But maybe Cara could offer the same thing that the Mandalorian had offered her over the past few months.

She moves to be closer, watching quietly for a moment to be close enough without being bothersome. It wasn’t a position she was used to, but she could learn. Cara could always learn.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Buir - Mother or Father  
> Ad'ika - Little One  
> Utreekov - fool, idiot (lit. empty head)  
> Ner Dral - My light
> 
> Here's an update! As usual, it was fun to write this, especially since I've included Obi-Wan this time around. He was a bit trickier since this is my first time writing him. I actually rewatched Attack of the Clones for the first time in 8 years to get a sense of his character (and to see the fight between him and Jango bc that's highly entertaining.) Hopefully, I did his characterization well enough for a first attempt.
> 
> You can find me on Tumblr at maul-antics to yell at me about this fic or to see all the Star Wars content that I'm getting into lol.
> 
> Hopefully, this was a fun chapter to read! :D


	7. Chapter Seven

When he arrives at Master Plo’s ship, he’s greeted by both Master Plo and Commander Wolffe. Both men are tense, emotions swirling between them in the Force as they greeted him and Commander Cody onto their ship. Whatever had happened with the Mandalorian prisoner since Master Plo sent that message to him and Master Mace had rattled the two of them and it was causing Obi-Wan to gain the start to a headache. One that would settle behind his eyes and encompass his whole head if he didn’t steer himself away from their emotions.

He leans towards Cody for a moment, letting himself get lost in the man’s presence. It was enough to ground him, keep what would have become a nasty headache at bay. He leans away, knowing that Cody had noticed this - curious feeling in the Force from the commander that made Obi-Wan smile for a moment - and would be asking about it later.

“Where is the prisoner?” Obi-Wan asks, composing himself against the emotions of the two men in front of him.

“He’s still in the medbay,” Master Plo starts,” There was trouble when he woke up and couldn’t find the child.”

“He kicked and screamed is what he means General Kenobi,” Wolffe says, looking tired and angry. More so than the commander of the Wolf pack usually was. “Payback had to give him a sedative to put him back to sleep so he wouldn’t hurt himself.”

“So he’s attached to the child,” Obi-Wan states. “Very unusual given the animosity between the Mandalorian and the Jedi.”

“But not out of the realm of possibility?” Master Plo looks at him as that is asked, hope seeping into the Force. The Kel Dor wanted that child to be in good hands even if it meant not taking the force-sensitive child back to the temple to be watched over by other Jedi.

Obi-Wan sighs. “There is a chance that he does love the child despite the animosity. Mandalorians are a culture of taking in any child that has nobody to take care of them which is probably what happened when he found this child.” He watches as Master Plo takes in that information and gives a single nod of understanding after a few moments.

“Let us go see him and the child,” Master Plo said, sounding more cheerful than when he greeted Obi-Wan and Cody. “He and the child are bound to be up soon.”

“You left him with the kid?” Cody asks, sounding surprised.

“He reacts better to us when he has the child near him,” Master Plo explains as he goes to walk down the hallway. “Payback is there to watch over them both.”

Obi-Wan is amused to see both Cody and Wolffe share a look behind Master Plo’s back as they continue to walk down the hallway. Obi-Wan knew that look, it was one that Cody and Rex shared a lot when he and Anakin teamed up with each other for a mission - and Anakin offered up one of his battle plans to be considered by both the council and the clones.

With a small smile, he joins Master Plo and starts to discuss what they should do for the interrogation. They couldn’t try what Master Plo had done last time - no, there was too much hostility in such an environment to try again.

“What do you suggest would be a good place, Master?” Obi-Wan asked. Master Plo knew the ship better than him - even if it was virtually the same as his since it was a Republic Attack Cruiser.

The man takes a moment to think before he answers. “One of the observation decks.” He suggested, turning a corner to reach another hallway. “Bigger space and it would make the child happy to see the stars.”

“And it would be easier to make the Mandalorian feel as if he isn’t surrounded by all sides.”

“That was taken into consideration as well.”

“We’ll have to bring in Cody,” Obi-Wan goes to say and he senses Wolffe’s indignation at the suggestion. “The Mandalorian won’t react to Commander Wolffe well if we have him watching over us.”

“Sir, I can keep myself calm,” Wolffe said, voice lower. Causes both Obi-Wan and Master Plo to stop and turn to face the two commanders. “He was the one to attack us both.”

“You did provoke him, Commander,” Master Plo said with humour in his tone. Obi-Wan could see the smile on the Kel Dor’s face, soft and amused. “I think it would be wise to not repeat our earlier interrogation.”

“And it won’t be wise that you be left with only one clone against him.” Woffle stares at his general, glaring hard. He’s also tense, shoulders set like he’s expecting an enemy to pop up out of nowhere. It briefly reminds him of Jango when Obi-Wan first went onto Kamino to investigate who was trying to assassinate Senator Amidala.

Of course, the difference here was that Wolffe was trying to be protective of his general and Jango was trying to keep as far away as possible from Obi-Wan.

“Which is why you will be stationed outside the observation deck,” Obi-Wan says. Wolffe’s glare goes from Master Plo to him, his one eye staring at Obi-Wan like he was trying to see every possible way wrong with that strategy. “It will keep the peace this way, commander.” He said finally, hoping that Wolffe understood.

Wolffe stares for a second longer then gives a single nod. “That’s acceptable, sir.” He says, shoulders becoming relaxed.

“Good, we didn’t need you fighting again,” Cody said as he started to walk. Wolffe gives him an eye roll as he goes to follow after the other clone.

Obi-Wan and Master Plo do the same, moving down several levels to the medbay. 

It’s as they get closer that Obi-Wan senses the Mandalorian’s presence in the Force. There weren’t any feelings of anger or betterment as he expected from the man being imprisoned. No, he was feeling happier - content even if Obi-Wan were to give a description of what he was sensing.

That had to be the child’s doing. They kept him grounded and were obviously a source of happiness for the man. It still didn’t explain much of the current situation, but Obi-Wan knew that the key to getting answers was to make sure that there was no threat of the child leaving. If there was any worry or paranoia about the child leaving, then the Jedi wouldn’t get clear answers on what was going on here.

They made it to the door of the medbay and Master Plo opened it up. They were greeted by the sight of the prisoner sitting on a slab with the child running around the room wildly and Payback leaning against another slab close by.

It was a scene of chaos, one that the prisoner seemed unbothered by if the small smile on the man’s face was to go by. It quickly disappeared when he saw both Obi-Wan and Master Plo enter the room.

Ah, so he didn’t like Jedi after all.

“Hello there,” Obi-Wan starts as he puts himself on the opposite side of the room from the Mandalorian, smiling softly. “What do we have here?”

There was a glare, one that spoke volumes about how the Mandalorian was currently feeling about seeing the two Jedi. Obi-Wan tries to make eye contact with him, hoping to start a rapport but is pushed out by the way the man quickly looks down at the floor. 

The child is still running around the room, obviously excited about something that they had to physically get it out. Payback moves to stand up, looking towards his General with a bit of exasperation.

“Sir, I have those reports done,” Payback says as he picks up a datapad. “Would you like me to send them to your room for you to read later?”

“That would be appreciated, Payback,” Master Plo says, voice soothing. Obi-Wan knew without even looking at the Kel Dor that he was smiling at the medic.

Payback nodded and headed towards the door. There was a hand signal exchanged between him and Cody, one that earned a single firm nod from Cody. Then Payday was out, leaving the three of them to deal with the prisoner. Obi-Wan looks at the Mandalorian again, taking in the details that the file hadn’t been able to capture.

The man was solid, nothing would force him down unless it was stronger than him. Likely he was a heavy infantry in Death Watch, a fitting position for a man of his size and stature. His eyes - a light brown - a colour that turned cold when he moved to glare at Obi-Wan. There was also the wavy blond hair, the sides of his head shaved so that there was only hair covering the temple. Part of it curled over his forehead, showing that it was tangled and hadn’t been brushed recently.

Obi-Wan also saw the few scars that peaked through the blacks, all gnarled or a pale lighter than the skin around it, telling him that he had seen combat. Whatever has happened to this man - if it had led him up to this point in this situation or had happened much earlier - it was experienced and wouldn’t be ignored by Obi-Wan.

The child at some point decides that they’re curious about the new visitors and slows down in their running. Obi-Wan had seen a brief glimpse of them in the holodeck a few hours before, but it was nothing compared to now. They were so small, likely to be light as well when carrying them. Their big ears - so big compared to the child’s body - twitching as they took in sounds made the child adorable. Then there were the big black eyes that felt as if they were studying you even if they didn’t understand what they were studying.

Obi-Wan also felt their presence in the Force, bright and filled with joy, as a foundling should be at this age. Had Master Yoda looked similar to this child at this age?

Nobody rightly knew the answer to that, not even Master Yoda himself since he was nine-hundred years old. But Obi-Wan could be amused with the image that Master Yoda probably looked and acted like this child.

The child moved towards Obi-Wan, staring at him with curiosity. The Mandalorian watched carefully, posed to intervene if the situation suddenly turned. Obi-Wan stayed still, hoping that nothing turned sour. The child stood in front of him for a few moments, looking up. He sensed them seeing a wave of curiosity and unbridled happiness towards him, something that Obi-Wan knew they were testing since they were a child.

He smiles and sends back a wave of happiness and excitement at seeing them. The child’s whole body moved, jerking in a way that he had seen foundlings in the creche react when a Jedi gave them attention in such a way. They let out a high-pitched coo, excitement filling their being as they rushed towards his feet. They latched onto his one ankle, not planning on letting go soon.

He crouches down to get a closer look at them. They look up at him, still latched onto his ankle. When he moves a hand to pet between their ears, the kid let’s go of his ankle and pulls his hand down with the Force to grab it with their tiny hands. The claws dig into his skin a bit as a result, but Obi-Wan knows they don’t mean. He continues to smile down at them, moving to sit fully on the floor.

Obi-Wan looks to see the Mandalorian looking at the two of them, a small smile on his face. There were feelings of warmth, of happiness from him and Obi-Wan knew that there was the start of something. He wouldn’t push it now, but he knew he had a bit of an advantage now with the blessing of his child.

“Do they have a name?” He asks, making sure to keep his tone light. The child makes a sound and lets go of his hand in favour of crawling onto his lap.

“They haven’t gotten one yet,” The Mandalorian answers, voice rough. His eyes move away from Obi-Wan, staring at a different part of the room. “It’s not mine to decide.”

Curious. What didn’t give the man the right to name a child he clearly loved?

“So what have you been calling them?” He questions.

A soft smile, one that Obi-Wan has come to associate solely for the child as the man said, ”Ad’ika. I’ve been calling them ad’ika.”

Little One. A nickname, but it was one said with love. Obi-Wan looks back down at the child, smiling softly at them. The child mumbles something as they look up at their father and then sends out a wave of love that has Obi-Wan almost clutching his head. So powerful in the Force and yet they were so young.

“A fine thing to call them.” Obi-Wan waits a moment for the Mandalorian to look back at him, his glare not returning despite his distrust of the Jedi. Maybe he trusted the child’s judgement when it came to strangers?

Whatever the reason this man was hesitantly trusting him now, it prompts him to ask,” What is your name, Mandalorian?”

This time it took a bit longer for an answer to come. Obi-Wan waited, keeping the child mildly entertained while doing so. They babble at him, sending every emotion that flitted through them to him and it was adorable even with how exhausting it was. Maybe if he was allowed, he could teach them a few other things that a foundling was supposed to learn when they were in the creche.

He lightly stroked one of the child’s ears when the man spoke up. “I’m Paz.”

“No last name, Paz?”

“No, you haven’t earned it yet.”

So it was going to be like that. Obi-Wan can wait, he was gaining trust now at least. And they had a name now besides Mandalorian or prisoner. “It’s nice to meet you, Paz. I’m Master Obi-Wan Kenobi. Why don’t we go to the observation deck to talk further? I’m sure Ad’ika could use the space to tire themselves out.”

“Why would we go there? I thought your friend wanted to interrogate me?” Paz asks demandingly, suspicion laced into his voice. There was a spike of distrust from the man, something that made Obi-Wan pause.

“We thought it would fare better than where it happened last time,” He says truthfully. Honest would go a long with Paz, so there was no use in omitting or trying to dodge any of his questions. “And would give the child a great place to run around.”

Paz narrows his eyes as he moves to stand. He was tall, unnaturally so - something that he was using to his advantage as he looked down at Obi-Wan. He walks over to Obi-Wan, slowly and a bit unsteady. When reaching him, Paz stops and continues to stand and look down at him, still searching to see if what Obi-Wan said was the truth. Obi-Wan didn’t look away, stared right back at him.

The child broke the silence by letting out a low sound, as they decided to crawl out of Obi-Wan’s lap. They moved over to Paz’s bare feet and patted on them, making low sounds that were only babble. It was enough to crack the man as he let out a sigh.

“Taking me to the observation deck, Jetti. We’ll see if I can answer any of your questions.” Paz said, moving to scoop the child up in his arms.

Obi-Wan nods and goes to stand up. Cody, who has been silently standing near the door, comes to stand close to Paz. The man looks down at the clone, a weird look on his face as if he can’t decide what he thinks about Cody.

“What’s your name?” Paz asks, the question directed towards Cody.

“Cody, Commander of the 212th Battalion.” 

“Good.” And with that, there was no nothing more said by the man. 

Cody gives him a questioning look and Obi-Wan shrugs. He didn’t know what the man was doing, but it was harmless as opposed to what Paz had done earlier to Master Plo and his men. He gives the commander a signal and Cody nods, directing Paz towards the door.

Obi-Wan would get the answers out of Paz, there was too much going on that puzzled him.

_________

Plo reads over the report that Payback had written out when observing both the Mandalorian and the little one. The Mandalorian was in good shape even with the less than stellar care that he was able to retrieve over the years - as it was indicated by the number of scars and how they healed in the medic’s report. It didn’t surprise Plo, Mandalorians were more self-reliant when it came to injuries and scars that they got on the run.

The section about the child was one that interested him. Even with how little knowledge the Healers had about Master Yoda’s kind, the comparison between Master Yoda and the little one seemed to signal that they were fine if a bit tired when Payback checked them out. Maybe Master Yoda would reveal more once they were able to get in contact with him.

Plo looks up from the datapad to see Wolffe standing close to the door, helmet on. Outwardly, he didn’t give anything away besides being a dutiful commander. The emotions he was sending out into the Force told him another story. There was a mix of worry and agitation, something that only happened when Wolffe was pushed to his limits.

Plo moves so he’s close to the commander, knowing that the clone won’t mind his presence. Wolffe only tilts his head in his direction when Plo sends out a feeling of calm.

“What are you doing, sir?”

“I’m only concerned, Wolffe.”

A sigh escapes Wolffe, one that Plo has only heard a few times. “What are we doing sir? What are we putting so much effort into this when it would be easier to take the kid and have the Mandalorian face his charges?”

“It would be the easy thing, but not the right thing.” Plo answers after a bit, thinking over the man’s words. “I know it appears that our prisoner is part of a terrorist group, but the Force tells me otherwise.”

“Wish it could give you the exact reason why,” Wolffe said gruffly. It was a step closer to the man that Plo knew and that was enough of a reason to smile.

“We have been given clues, we just have to follow them to the truth,” Plo said, earning a light sign from the commander. It caused him to gain a bigger smile, glad to see that Wolffe wasn’t so tightly wound. There was still worry and agitation, but not as much as it was before.

“Do you know what you Jedi sound like when you say bantha shit like that?”

“From time to time we do. But we can’t help speaking from our hearts, Wolffe.” 

This earns him another sigh, one that was more playful in nature. “Crazy Jedi,” Wolffe says.

That’s when Commander Cody comes out of the medbay with the prisoner and Master Obi-Wan. In the prisoner’s arms was the child, settled into their father’s arms. Commander Cody moves the prisoner towards the observation deck, making sure to keep close.

Wolffe stays a foot or so behind, giving Cody the room he needs to guide the prisoner. Master Obi-Wan stands close to him and says quietly, “I got his first name, it’s Paz.”

“Paz, hmm,” Plo said. It was nice to put a face to a name, even if it was only the first name. No matter, they would get the last name at a later time. 

For now, it was important to understand what was happening here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ad'ika - little one
> 
> Okay, chapter seven! This one was exciting since I was writing from Obi-Wan's pov and was having him trying to earn Paz's trust. Also, him falling in love with Baby Yoda was great, 10/10 imo. 
> 
> I'll probably be able to put out two more chapters (three if the first week of the semester isn't too bad) before I have to put this fic on hold. I'll probably do one-shots during the semester since I can't completely abandon writing, but I can't do a long fic like Trippin' Backwards since I need a block of hours open to write these chapters out and time dedicated to figuring out future plot stuff. I promise I will get back to it once the semester is over since I can't abandon this, I'm having way too much fun with it! I just wanted to put out an advance warning so it doesn't seem like I dropped off the face of the earth.
> 
> Anyway, hopefully, this will be a fun chapter to read! :D


	8. Chapter Eight

The first thing that Paz notices about the observation deck is a distant planet from the window. That must be where he and the ad’ika landed since the ship hadn’t gone into hyperspace - or at least he didn’t think they had. There were two points where he was knocked out when the Jetii and his troop could have made a jump. Paz sighs, figuring he shouldn’t put all his brainpower into figuring it out, more focused on letting the kid run around in the space.

They gave a screech and went flying, obviously happy to have a much bigger space to play in. Paz moves towards the window, taking in the sight of the planet. It was similar to Tatooine with the yellow sands covering most of the land. But in areas near the sea, there were clusters of forests, growing despite the environment of the planet. It was a pretty sight, one that made Paz wonder if Din would have tried to hide here to keep their family safe from the Imps.

He pushes that thought away, turning so he was facing the two Jetti. The Kel Dor was hanging back, staying near the entrance of the observation deck, most likely observing what would happen in this interrogation session. Along with him was another soldier, standing by the door quietly, most likely watching over to keep Paz from attacking either Jetii. There was yellow on his helmet and his armour, easily different from the other soldier from before.

That was still a mystery Paz. Storm Troopers were indistinguishable from each other, even commanders. How could they be allowed to decorate like this? Why would they let them decorate like this when it only created an easily identifiable target?

Paz pushes those thoughts out of his mind and turns his attention to the other Jetii. He was a human man called Obi-Wan and was closer to him than the Kel Dor, watching Paz like he was studying something under a microscope.

His light red hair shined in the red light of the nearby star and his blue eyes sparkled when tilting his head to study. Paz mentally sighed, wishing that these thoughts wouldn’t plague him - even if his mind helpfully reminded him how good Obi-Wan was around the child.

If Din were here, he would be mercilessly teasing Paz for the crush on the Jetti.

“Get it over with Kenobi,” Paz says as he goes to sit on the ledge. It was the only way to keep all of the room in sight and be able to leap at the first of danger. “Ask your questions.”

“Are you willing to cooperate?” Obi-Wan asks. He moves closer to Paz, watching carefully. The red starlight made the already red hair glow as if a fire burning low in a hearth.

Kriff, Din would have so much fun teasing him about this.

Paz sighs, answering, “I’m willing too.” Then as an afterthought, he says,” Sit next to me. I’m not looking at you to stand for however long this takes, Kenobi.”

There was a bit of shock on the man’s face at this request, but he muted it after a moment. Then goes to sit next to Paz, keeping a bit distance between them. Paz has to keep himself from staring at Obi-Wan for a long moment despite how much Paz wanted to wax poetry about soft and beautiful the Jetti look in the red starlight.

What made this small crush worse was when the kid slowed down and stopped in front of them, making the motions to be picked up. Paz goes to pick the ad’ika up and suddenly they’re being lifted into the air by Obi-Wan. He looks to see the man settling the child onto his lap, wrapping an arm around them to keep them from falling to the floor. The child sits on his lap and squeezes his stomach, babbling all the while.

Paz had a type and he hated being confronted by it. Especially when the kid was making a face that was all awe whenever Obi-Wan did something with the Force. Paz didn’t know what it was, but the several times that it happened since the Jetti had shown himself had made the kid so happy they looked like they could barely contain themselves with glee.

“Where did you find the child, Paz?” Obi-Wan starts with asking, tone careful and coordinated.

Paz swallows and knows he has to reveal Din being part of this. It wouldn’t be right, Din had the right to be known as the ad’ika’s buir. “My riduur found them when he was doing a bounty for the clan. He took them in and he adopted them as his own ad when he decided that the Empire shouldn’t have the kid in their possession.” 

He left out details like not being married at the time or how kriffing mad he was at Din for working with the Imps. But they were in the unimportant details and things that he wanted to stay between him and Din.

“And the Empire would be?” Obi-Wan kept his voice level as that was asked, probably read Paz’s past reaction to a similar question. 

“That would be the Empire that took over the Republic around thirty years ago, Kenobi.” Paz watches as puzzlement comes over the Jetii’s face. The kid even gives the man a quisitive sound as they stare up at him.

“What year is it, Paz?” Obi-Wan asks after a minute. 

“9 ABY,” Paz answers simply.

A light sound escapes Obi-Wan’s mouth at this - which causes the child to make a distressing sound with whatever the Jetii does with the Force. Paz turns his body towards the man, wondering what this could mean. Maybe he would get an answer for what was going on, what all of these meant to him.

“What? That’s not the year?” He asks, hoping it would prompt the Jetii to answer him. 

When Obi-Wan looked him in the eyes, they showed a few different emotions that clashed with each other. Paz felt like whatever the Jetii was going to say would tilt him over the edge, forever falling into something he wasn’t prepared for.

“That’s not the year, Paz,” Obi-Wan says solemnly. Paz feels his throat closing, hoping desperately that the Jetii was lying, making things up to give away secrets about the Covert and about his family. “It’s currently 1000 ARR.”

Suddenly everything clicks in his mind once he’s heard that. The Jango Fett look-alikes, the lack of concern the Jetiise has about being seen by others and the lack of knowledge about the Empire. Paz wasn’t just somewhere that he wasn’t supposed to be, he was in an entirely different time than the one he thought he was in.

His body slumps as he realized this, his back leaning against the glass of the window, his head tilted up to look at the ceiling of the observation room. Paz couldn’t have dragged Din into this, Din wasn’t even born _yet!_

“So this is the Clone Wars?” The question was hesitant, but he already knew the answer. Maybe he just wanted someone else to say it so he couldn’t trick himself into thinking it was something different. “I’m here during the Republic civil war?”

“Yes, yes you are Paz,” Obi-Wan said gently, “And you’re safe.”

_“Obviously not!”_ Paz shouts. He moves to stand, suddenly unwilling to be an easy target. He couldn’t be caught being helpless, not when he had the kid to protect. He _had_ to get them back to Din! “The Republic _ends_ after the end of the Clone Wars, I’m still _not_ safe!”

He sees the clone near the door stand to attention, body tense. He doesn’t move closer to Paz and Obi-Wan, but the threat was there. Make the wrong move and he would end up being strapped down again.

Paz lets out a growl and starts to move, to pace, wanting to get rid of this feeling of helplessness and anger that has collected suddenly in his chest. He doesn’t pay attention to the shared look between the Jetiise, nor to Obi-Wan standing up, holding the child in his arms.

What he does pay attention to is Obi-Wan standing in his way when he goes to turn around. The child makes a sound, curious and confused as they stare up at him with their black eyes. It was enough to stop him from pacing, but not enough to settle these feelings in his chest.

“Ad’ika, I’m sorry for shouting,” Paz goes to say, realizing what he had done. They weren’t distressed, but they shouldn’t have been around to see or hear it. It was one of the rules that he and Din agreed on before their marriage that the ad’ika shouldn’t have to deal with their arguments or their yelling. 

Paz can admit that he was too proud sometimes. That he expressed his pride and hatred with hurtful words and need to push for violence. It was something he had done to Din as well as others in the Covert in the past, hurt to stay behind, hiding underground to survive when the Covert should be out there, proudly showing off their heritage and religion.

It wasn’t something the kid should pick up, no matter how much he lost his head in the moment.

They babbled at him in reply, smiling. “Good, now let’s go see if we can get back to your buir.”

“That’s your plan?” The Kel Dor says, finally speaking up. “Find your spouse and return home?”

“It is until further notice. If I happen to also take down whoever causes the Empire to form, all the better.”

This time he sees the two Jetiie sharing a look. One that Paz interpreted to be mild amusement with a dash of exasperation mixed in. Paz could deal with that, as long as they let him have the kid.

Maybe the kid could learn to hone their skills in the Force while they were here.

_________

Din was trying to keep calm with the dead-end of a trail. He was hoping that they found his husband and child at the end of the trail, needing it to be true. Because if he couldn’t find them at the end of it, where else could they have gone?

The Armour stands close to him, offering her presence for when he was ready to accept her words of wisdom and comfort. He barely takes notice of Cara standing further off, giving the two of them room as Din tries to keep his emotions from exploding outwards. He had hoped he would find them, that they would be reunited, that they could chalk this up as a misadventure.

A rough sounding breath escapes him as he turns towards the Armorer, moves closer to her to feel some kind of peace at what this all could mean. There was the need to cry to release everything that poured itself into his chest and wrapped around his throat, strangling him for daring to get his hopes up. 

There was a hand on his shoulder, gentle and filled with care. He looks to see the Armorer still standing up, but giving all the care he needed in that moment. With a shaky hand, he puts it over hers and squeezes, hoping she would understand that he was grateful for her presence, for her calm demeanour. 

“Thank you,” Din manages to get out, voice cracking and filled with the want to cry.

She nods and speaks up. “This isn’t the end, Din.” The Armorer says, calm and careful. “There is more than what we’re currently seeing.”

“How can it _not_ be the end?” He asks. These feelings in his chest start to squeeze his lungs, making him feel as if drawing a deep breath in was impossible. “Look around!”

“You ran in here, Din, do you even search after seeing they weren’t here?” 

Din shakes his head no.

“Then there is more to search. Don’t give up hope yet.”

“How can you be so sure?” Din asks. How did she keep hope after everything?

He knew she was smiling softly by the way she tilted. And how she spoke when she said, “Mandalorians are stubborn and filled with the need to live. It would take more than the pieces we’re stitching together for your riduur and ad’ika to perish.”

“She’s right, you know.” Came Cara’s voice, filled with amusement. “Don’t get caught up in your head, we do need you.”

“You would be without a good arm wrestling partner is what you mean.” He says, trying to match her amusement.

Din smiles when he hears Cara laughing. “You think highly of yourself if you think that’s true.”

“I’ve been replaced by her, haven’t I?”

“He does have his head back on!” Cara said cheerfully, leaning into the Armorer’s side. He knew that his leader was content with this, leaning into her girlfriend without hesitation.

“How about we search this room to see what we can find?” The Armorer said, steering the two of them back to why they were here. Din watches as Cara initiates the Keldabe kiss, a moment soft and sweet between them.

It makes Din miss Paz fiercely, the one person who created such moments with him. 

He goes to stand as they pull away from each other. From there, the three of them started to search the room, trying to find any clues that give a reason why this was a dead end and there was no body to see. Din starts by retracing the man’s steps from the entrance of the room to the small structure that sat in the middle of it. There were splatters of blood on the ground, most likely coming from the feathered creature that Paz and the child chased after.

Besides the desperate looking scratches in the stone flooring, there were faint traces of dirt pressed into the stone. That could be from the creatures, they were more wild animal than humanoid alien, it was entirely possible that they could track dirt into their home. But something in Din’s gut said otherwise. It had to be Paz even if it didn’t take the shape of the man’s boots.

He follows it to the structure where the dirt was gathered the most. There was a faint shape, one that closely resembled a big boot than a small foot of the creatures. Hope surged into Din’s chest at this. Maybe there was something here that would lead him to his family, his clan of three.

He called the other two, leading them to the structure. They all studied what he’d found, thinking of the many possibilities that it could mean.

“Definitely not from those creatures,” Cara said, confirming what Din had thought only a minute before. “But it could be something else, there was a few days between Din calling me and coming to this planet that anything could have come in here.”

“But there is only one set of prints. It has to be from Paz.” Din said. There had to be something else here, something they were all missing. If they could find what it was, it would lead them to the rest of his family.

“There is a trail leading back to the door before it stops. Perhaps it has to do with the structure?” The Armorer offers up, making him and Cara turn to look at her. They follow the trail that she points out, seeing in the dim light from the doorway that she was right.

The trail leads back to it before it stops. 

“What could have happened with the structure to cause Paz and the kid to disappear?” Cara questions, shifting in her feet. 

“I suspect we’re in a Sith temple.” The Armorer said firmly. “The writings on the wall match close to some of the Jetiise language I had seen from the previous Armorer who’d studied their stories. It mentioned that the Sith were particularly interested in experimenting on animals and with the Force.”

“You think the kid could have done something?” Cara looked nervous when asking that, her eyes darting around the room. The Sith were often told as cautionary tales, something to keep the children from misbehaving or wandering during the night. 

They became reality once people had seen Darth Vader running around. There were even rumours that the Emperor was one himself.

The Armorer shakes her head. “No. I believe it reacted more to their power.”

“And what did it do?” Din asks slowly. “What could it have done to them?”

“That is unclear. I would have studied more of the temple to see what this temple had been used for,” The Armorer answers calmly. Even with being faced with the possibility of Sith, she kept her cool.

Din presses a hand to the structure, wondering what the Sith could have been experimenting with that it was still active enough to send his riduur and ad elsewhere. There was a hum at the back of his head moments after he did this. It sounded off and it sounded wrong. He pulls his hand away from the structure, wondering what was happening.

Taking a step back, he sees the structure starting to glow red, a threatening sight. Cara takes a step back as well, worry showing up along with her confusion. She grabs for the Armorer’s hand, gripping it tight as she went for his. If something was going to happen, they would go at it together.

The humming still sounded at the back of his head, but now joined with it were whispering, saying something in a language that Din didn’t understand. He tightly grips Cara’s hand, needing something to ground him as the red glow grew brighter and the humming grew louder.

Then without any warning, they all froze, unable to move. As Din frantically looked around, something invisible wrapped his body, holding him tight. It felt wrong, off, similar to the humming that stayed at the back of his mind as this all happened. The red glow started to blind him as it grew brighter and it forced Din to close his eyes.

Whatever the invisible thing was wrapped around his body started to squeeze him, making him feel as if his breath was being pushed out of his lungs. Then there was a single 'pop!'

And then he felt himself falling through the air.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ad'ika - Little One  
> Jetii - Jedi  
> Jetiise - Jedi (plural)  
> Riduur - Partner, spouse, wife, husband
> 
> Sorry for taking a bit to update, there was a bit of drama involving a family member that wiped me out for a few days and I didn't want to write. All I can say for now is that I might put out one more chapter for this before I have to put it down for the semester. I'll be sad to do that since this is so much fun to write, but I see the bright side to this with finding more Star wars stuff to read since there are so many books and comics I can dig into and borrow details for this fic. (I'm hoping to read Shatterpoint for Mace since I heard it's really good!) 
> 
> Also, I took glee in having Paz form a crush on Obi-Wan since I had that idea near chapter two and knew I had to implement it somehow lol. (Also a friend encouraged me to do it since we loved seeing Paz being a mess about having a crush on a Jedi XD.) You can find my Star Wars shenanigans on Tumblr by the name of maul-antics. 
> 
> Hopefully, this was a fun chapter to read! :D


	9. Chapter Nine

Cara was still gripping her girlfriend’s hand when all three of them were unceremoniously dumped into the air and fell towards the ground. Gripping tightly, Cara pulled the Zebrak towards her, hoping that the two Mandalorians had a plan for not becoming a bloody mess on the ground. She stares as the Armorer pulls Din to her body and then knocks her head into Din’s. Like she was restarting the man’s brain with a swift knock to the head.

It did the trick as Din moved, his one hand going to the jetpack on his back while pulling the Armorer and Cara closer to him. The ground came closer and closer and Cara felt like they were picking up speed as they rushed to the ground while Din struggled to get the jetpack started. Cara’s grip tightened on her girlfriend’s hand as fear gripped her chest at the thought  _ ‘maybe we won’t make it’ _ . She felt the Armorer do the same, the action calming her enough to push that thought out of her mind. 

They were closing in on the ground - Cara could make out several pathways in the area of canyons and even a settlement that was a few klicks away from where they would crash into the ground - when suddenly the jetpack came to life, fire pushing them up a few feet. All of them jerked at the motion, bumping into each other as they suddenly stopped falling, unprepared for the jetpack to start. Din wobbled for a few moments - since he was holding two grown women in one hand - before setting himself right and holding steady in the air. 

Cara took note of the shaking in Din’s arm but knew that he was going to tough it out since they were still many feet in the air. As he lowers them down to the ground, the Armorer asks “Gar jate?” 

“Lek.” Was all Din said in reply, voice shaking as he kept all of them steady. 

Cara watched as the ground came closer, now at a slower pace, seeing that they were on a desert planet now, close to canyons they would need to navigate once they reached the ground. It was a difference from the forest filled world they were just on and Cara wasn’t sure if it was better or worse. 

She had stayed on several planets, being journeyed around the galaxy when she was still a paratrooper and part of the Rebels. She had to go where she was ordered, never enough people to help out on missions where being thrown to the ground was a requirement. Nobody who was sane - at least sane in the sense that they feared heights and plummeting to the ground - wanted to be part of those missions.

Cara was different since she enjoyed the rush and thrill of falling to the ground and then at the last moment being saved by a parachute that she was issued. It was the same with the rest of her team when they were alive. When they could speak about how close they had gotten before having to pull the cord.

Now all she had were the memories and the feeling of falling to the ground that made her sad instead of joyful.

Din’s grip gave way when they were still a bit from the ground. It was much easier to handle than when they were plummeting towards the ground, so Cara didn’t have the same gripping fear in her chest. Cara used her training from being a paratrooper to roll when she landed on the ground, letting the shockwaves move through her body so she would avoid injury. 

As she stood up, she looked over to see the Armorer standing as well, watching Din as he landed on the ground. She goes to stand near her, leaning against her body as a way to get some comfort. They’d only briefly talked about her fear of death before all of this, so she knew she was due for another about the topic when they found a few moments to speak privately.

For now, she would just take a small bit of comfort that her girlfriend and friend were alive and well.

“You saw that settlement in the distance?” Din asked, sounding tired. His body was swaying as well, clearly tired from the unexpected trip of falling out of the sky and then having to hold two women while slowly descending down. 

“Yes,” The Armorer started, voice calm. “We’ll have to go there and see if they’re hospitable towards us.”

“I’m sure two Mandalorians and an ex-paratrooper from the Rebels will go over well,” Cara said sarcastically. Armorer nudges her at the stomach with an elbow, her way of saying  _ ‘quit it!’  _ without outright saying it. “What? The odds are against us when we don’t know where we are and don't know how they feel to either of those things.”

“We will deal with those problems as they arise. For now, we go there for our current plan.” Cara knew she was being given a disapproving look through the dark visor. It made her feel a tiny bit guilty, but not enough so that she was suddenly going to drop her stance.

“Fine, let’s start walking.” With that, all three of them started to walk in the direction they saw the settlement, the walls of the canyon surrounding them. Cara only hoped that they were friendly. She couldn’t deal if they had to fight their way out to escape.

_________

Hours had gone by as they travelled through the maze of canyons. Every once in awhile, Din would use his jetpack to check which direction they were supposed to as the canyons went every which way and often would lead them astray. Afternoon became early evening when Din felt his legs give way, falling to the ground as if to scream  _ ‘STOP!’ _ at him. Both women noticed when his armour made a sound when he made contact with the ground and hovered nearby, there if he asked them to drag his body elsewhere. Which they were going to have to do with how much ache ran through his legs at the thought of even standing up again.

He looks up to see Cara leaning down, taking charge before he even says anything. As she puts an arm around his back and underneath his armpit, she talks. “And just when we were about a klick away,” She complains, lifting him up. “Couldn’t have collapsed when we could see the village like in the holostories.”

“Those don’t have any basis in reality,” Din says. He smiles when he sees Cara give him an eye roll as she starts towards the one side of the canyon.

“We’ll just have to have one of us go to the settlement to bring back transportation.” The Armorer said easily enough. 

“Probably gonna have to be you,” Cara says to the Armorer as she drags Din into a spot - a natural enclave into the canyon wall that would keep them out of sight of the suns. And any predators that would fly overhead. “Din can’t fly in his condition and it would be faster for you to use the jetpack to find the settlement. And if they’re not friendly then you can escape using it.”

The Armorer didn’t say anything, thinking over the plan that Cara proposed. Din knew she was trying to outway the benefits of using Din’s jetpack or walking on foot. It was a klick, after all, nothing that would be too hard for either of them to do.

He watches as Cara gives the Armorer a pointed look, one that Din had received from Paz many times over the last few months. It was one that said  _ ‘do as I say or else.’  _ Din tried to focus his gaze somewhere else, not wanting to feel like he was in the middle of an argument between the couple. 

“Come on, Armorer, there’s no other way to do this quickly. I’m sure Din doesn’t want to since his legs probably feel like jelly now,” Cara said, her voice sharp.

“It is a good plan,” The Armorer said after a beat, stiff and calm. “Hand me the jetpack.”

Din did as he was asked, unhooking it from his back. Cara was the one to take it off, handing it over to the Armorer with ease. They watched as she put on the jetpack and started it without it making a fuss. She looks to Cara and motions the woman over. 

Cara goes to her without a word. A moment where they stand near each other, doing nothing. The sand around their feet moves in a swirling motion kicked up by the jetpack. Then the Armorer moves, pulling Cara close to her. They share a brief Keldabe kiss, something that made Din’s heartache with want - for he wanted to share that again with Paz.

The Armorer pulls away with Cara, somehow looking lighter and steps to go fly. They watched as she went up, up, up and up the canyon. She pauses for a moment and then goes towards the settlement once she sees where it is. A moment of silence graces the two of them where the sand settles down.

Then Cara turns back to him and gives him a face that was a mix of emotions. “Legs feeling any better?” She asks as she walks to him.

He answers as she goes to sit down next to him. “A bit since they don’t have to deal with pressure anymore. But I doubt I’m not gonna be walking without a full night’s rest.”

“Who has the time for a good rest?” She says - in that voice that Din has come to know as her self-deprecating about either herself or the situation.

“I definitely haven’t since finding the kid.” Din starts, tilting his head back to the rocky walls. “They like to sleep for a few hours and then get up to run all over the ship including my body if I’m still laying down.”

“You love the womp rat despite that.” The statement made Din smile.

“Yeah, I do. So does Paz even with him claiming that a floating child isn’t natural.”

“They’ve learned to do that?”

“Yeah, they have.” He says with a grin. “It drives Paz nuts when he wants them to stay put for a bit when looking over our weapons.”

“Just can’t stay still for either of their fathers?” Cara said teasingly.

Din shakes in his head. “No, just filled with too much energy. But it eventually wears them out in the end, so we let it happen as long as they don’t set anything on fire.”

Cara nods as if she sees the logic of it. 

“Do you think that Paz and the kid are fine?” He asks.

She’s quiet for a bit, staring out. Din waits, wanting to hear her answer. 

Finally, she says something, still staring out to the other wall of the canyon they were in. “I think they are. Paz is infantry, right?” When Din nods yes, she continues. “Then he has the skills to keep the kid and you safe. Also if worst comes to worst, he would die protecting them so they could live to find you.”

  
  


He had to nod in agreement with that. “I hope I find them before it comes to that.” He says quietly.

“Same here, Din,” Cara said, her voice soft and surprisingly filled with hope. 

Din with some hesitation goes to put an arm around Cara’s shoulder, pulling her into his side. She lets him and leans in, happy with the arrangement. They stay like this, waiting for the Armorer to return with news about the settlement.

_________

The sun is dipping behind the horizon when the Armorer lands close to the settlement. Which she was starting to see was closer to a hideout than a settlement with all the pirates hanging around outside, talking, laughing and working on any speeders that needed to be repaired. And the fact that part of it was dug into the ground rather than above. Most likely to keep anyone who wasn’t part of the crew from spotting them from above

She could work with them as long as they didn’t try to kidnap her or the other two to make a profit. 

She moves towards the hideout, climbing down the side to get into the dugout. The Armorer walks through the middle of the dugout, watching for any sign of the Weequays pulling their weapons out. There were a few who gave her a look, bewildered that a Mandalorian would show up in such a place. But they went back to their work after a moment, leaving her alone as she went towards the entrance.

In the hideout was a large room filled with pirates drinking, dancing and singing. She stands for a moment, sweeping her gaze over the room beyond the obvious cluster of noise and mass of bodies. At the back of the room were several doors, leading to storage areas and holding cells, all to sell off to the highest bidder who wanted to do business with the pirates. In front of those doors was a long table with a single Weequay sitting at it, looking over the room as she was.

There was a cup near him, most likely filled with alcohol. But it was only for appearances sake since he never looked towards it and the way he would tilt his head as he overlooked the room told the Armorer that he was the one in charge. She goes to the table, watching as the Weequay sits up straighter and summons another pirate nearby to stand near him.

When she’s close enough, he greets her as if she were a business partner that he hadn’t gotten acquainted with. “And who might you be, Mandalorian?” He asks with a smile, finally holding his drink. “We don’t get your kind here often.”

“I imagine pirates and bounty hunters can’t get along when hunting after the same prize,” She said, smiling when she sees the brief furrowing of his brow. “I do need your help if you don’t mind providing it.”

“And why would I do that?”

“Same reason as why bounty hunters hunt, for the money.”

“Do you have money, Mandalorian?” The Weequay stares at her, studying her. He was a calculating man who disguised himself as a buffon to blend in with the rest of his crew. The Armorer approved of such a tactic with how well he had played up his part.

“I have the money.” She pulls out a bag filled with credits and beskar that Din had given her before the Covert had revealed itself from her belt. It wasn’t much, but it would have to do for now. She tosses it to the table, watching it land in front of the Weequay without much sound. “Just help me get my friends back here and then we’ll talk further about business.”

He checks through the bag, muttering under his breath when he sees the beskar. The Armorer waits as he starts to tally the price of the metal on both his hands. Beskar, no matter the time and place, was always valuable. “Why are you giving me this, Mandalorian? I thought this was precious to your people?”

“Heritage is important, but keeping a grip on the past to never face the present or future is not the path I walk.” The Armorer states. “I can always get it back. It never stays hidden for long.”

“What’s your name?” He asks.

“The Armorer.” He nods as if this makes sense.

“I am Hondo Ohnaka, Armorer. We have a deal. Now how do you want me to help?” 

The name is familiar enough, something that would come to her in time. But right now she had Cara and Din to worry about. “I need you to help me bring my friends back here to your hideout. We got stranded and have no way of getting off the planet.”

“And you’re willing to make a deal with pirates to do that?” Hondo said, tilting his head. “You really have no options if you’re coming to us.”

“I’m sure two Mandalorians and an ex-rebel paratrooper won’t be much to sway you from trying to make a profit off of us. Neither brings in good money.”

“Not unless it was Jango Fett! Man had several bounties on his head that would give me a fortune if I had caught him before his death.” Hondo said, smiling. It was the kind that promised to bite when you weren’t looking. “And I’m sure that the Republic would pay good money for some Separatists, even if they weren’t currently part of the army.”

That made her pause. She hadn’t mentioned the Republic or the Separatists when referring to herself and the other two of the trio. There was no good reason for the Clone Wars to be brought up like this, not when the rebellion against the Empire was the current talking point for many. Not unless that meant -

It hit her and she felt her head swim for a moment at the realization of what had happened to the three of them. That Sith experiment had pulled them through time when Din touched it and dumped them somewhere in the Clone Wars while it was still going on. The Armorer put her helmet into her hands, trying to keep herself from passing out.

“Armorer! Armorer, what’s going on with you?” She heard Hondo shout, moving to stand up. Other pirates surrounded her, weapons in hand in case they needed to shoot her. 

She chuckled and forced herself to look up. There wasn’t a worry in Hondo’s face, no, it was a man who was confused and trying to get hold of the situation. “I’m fine, Hondo, just had a troubling thought. I’ll need two of your men to drive speeders and follow me back to my friends. One of them is injured and can’t walk for the rest of the night.”

Hondo slowly nodded before he sent out the order for two of his men to follow her. The Armorer straightened out and pushed that realization to the back of her mind. She had more pressing things to worry about currently and couldn’t be swept up in her swirling thoughts about the current situation. She would deal with it when Din and Cara were informed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah-ha! A surprise update! 
> 
> I've been working on chapter eleven for the past few weeks since my only free day during the semester I can manage with all my coursework (Which is Fridays.) So I've been using that to work on a future chapter for this fic and I finally got it finished so I can post chapter nine! This'll probably be the only update during the semester since as I get closer to the end, I'm probably gonna have to focus on managing coursework since I've gone online (so much work, it never ends.)
> 
> But rest assured, the closer we get to the new season of The Mandalorian, I'm still thinking about this fic. I'm so excited about when I can get back to this and do weekly updates. 
> 
> As usual, you can find me on Tumblr as maul-antics for all the Star Wars stuff!
> 
> Hopefully, it was a fun chapter to read! :D


	10. Chapter Ten

Paz is given a room with a small fresher and a new set of blacks to keep himself comfortable. Obi-Wan was on the berth, sitting on the edge with this look to his face that said he was keeping an eye on Paz while he was in this room despite the declaration that he was helping. The Kel Dor - Master Plo Koon as he introduced himself in the hallway leading to his room - was watching from the doorway, holding the kid as if they had always belonged there. 

The clone commanders stood outside, there to keep their generals safe if Paz decided he suddenly wanted off this ship. It was better than the cell, but Paz knew that it was only cautious trust between the Jetiise and him. It was similar to when Din first found him all those months ago and took him aboard the Razor Crest. It took a full week before Din relaxed around him and actually started to include him on jobs.

Sometimes Paz would let the guilt about how much Din distrusted him despite growing up around each other overflow in his mind. It shouldn’t have been that way, especially with all that Din did to provide for the Covert.

But that trust from Din was earned and kept by showing that Paz wasn’t the same utreekov he had been for the last few years. Paz would do the same thing here with the Jetiise, showing that he wasn’t going to break their trust by being an utreekov.

Paz moves around the room, inspecting everything. The two Jetiise continued to watch him even when the kid made a sound and got their attention. Paz stands in the doorway of the refresher, watching as the ad’ika earned a bright smile from these two men as they did something with the Force. It makes him smile for a moment, happy that the kid was experiencing this. It wasn’t the Covert, the closeness of the group that Paz and Din had grown up with. But the Jetiise here had some kind of familiarity with each other and were close in a way that Paz couldn’t explain. It was different, but there was a closeness that he could see.

He moves away from the refresher, towards Master Plo. The man doesn’t even hesitate in giving the kid back to Paz despite how much he liked to hold the little one in his arms. 

“It’s time for a nap, Ad’ika,” Paz says softly, knowing they would be resistant to it. There was a whine and the waving of arms at the fact that they didn’t want to sleep. But Paz knew that they needed sleep, even with the nap they got earlier today. “Come on, it’s time to sleep. Din’ika would want that, right?”

The kid still struggled, but Paz kept calm, talking to them as he went towards the bed. Obi-Wan got up and walked around him. Well, tried to at least. The room wasn’t big, only enough for a man Paz’s size to stay in comfortably - very  _ comfortably. _

They bumped into each other as they tried to go around each other. Paz forced himself to look away from the man, knowing that his crush - and wouldn’t Din  _ love  _ that, Paz having a crush on a Jetti for all he talked about following the Way - would probably see the start of his blush on his face if he looked at him too long. Obi-Wan got around him after a moment and went to Master Plo.

Paz heard them whispering, voices too low for him to get anything useful. But he knew it was about him and they were probably going to discuss it with others in their order about what to do with him when they left him alone. He pulls the covers back on the bed and puts the kid down, watching as they shuffled over them and the sheets. He gets in and lays down, tired and wanting a nap of his own.

“Good night, Paz,” Obi-Wan said, smiling softly at Paz and the kid. Paz gives him a nod and closes his eyes. He hears the two Jetiise leave, the door to the room closing behind them.

Paz lays in the bed, letting the soft sounds of the kid exploring the room comfort him. Even if the kid wouldn’t go to sleep just yet, it wouldn’t hurt to close his eyes for a bit. If he happens to fall asleep, he knows that the kid won’t be able to escape as easily. He had a feeling a Republic ship like this one, the doors would be harder to open than on the Razor Crest for a Force-sensitive kid like the ad’ika.

The last thing he hears is the soft pattering of the kid’s feet over the cool metal floor before drifting off to sleep.

_________

It takes the door shutting to Paz’s room for Commander Wolffle to speak up. “He came from the future, Generals?” 

Obi-Wan isn’t surprised by the man’s bluntness. Nor was he surprised by the small movement of Cody’s shoulders slumping for a quick moment while rolling his eyes as he stood next to Obi-Wan. He was surprised that Master Plo was the one to start giving an answer as he turned around. “Yes. But we will have to have further talks with him to see how far into the future Paz was before landing here. The year he gave wasn’t any dating system I’d heard before.”

“Time travelling is possible, General Koon?” Cody asks, getting into the conversation. A slight tilt to the head that Obi-Wan has come to know as him being curious. “I thought that was old spacer tales and Jedi legends, sir.”

“It is possible, Commander Cody. However, it’s rare and very few have been able to find doorways to go into a different time.”

“It is also impossible to say that it was a force-user that brought Paz to this time,” Obi-Wan says. “Not without getting an answer from the man anyway.”

“He could give us a lot of answers,” Wolffe said, turning his attention to Obi-Wan. “He could tell us how to prevent the end of the Republic, save many lives in the process.”

“It is a possibility.” Obi-Wan starts,” but unlikely.”

“He says he wants to help, so why don’t you prove it by asking him about it,” Wolffe said gruffly, wording the statement differently. It made Obi-Wan share a look with Master Plo, wondering how the man had gotten on the softer side of the Wolfpack Commander. 

(Obi-Wan knew it had to do with the attack from the  _ Malevolence _ at the start of the war, how Master Plo had cared for his men despite only being their general for a few months at this point. But sometimes knowing and seeing were two different things.)

“It entirely depends on how much he remembers, Commander,” Master Plo says, taking a step closer to Wolffe. As he continues on he puts a hand to the clone’s shoulder, offering comfort. “I have a feeling he was very young when this war ended for him.”

Wolffe glared at the two of them for a moment, pinning them down as he studied them. Then quietly relents by turning to Cody and says, “One of your men and one of mine guards this room together.”

“Agreed, Commander,” Cody said in agreement. “Permission to leave, Generals?”

“Granted,” Master Plo said with a smile. Obi-Wan answers the same, stepping closer to the Kel Dor. They watch as the two commanders walk down the hall, sending a message through the coms to get their men down here to guard.

“We’ll have to send a message to Master Windu,” Obi-Wan starts, turning his attention towards Master Plo. “He’ll want to know about this.”

“Yes, as will the rest of the council.” Master Plo says in agreement. “I have a feeling they’ll want to meet Paz as well, see if he is committed to helping us win the war.”

“He was very committed back there. But his first priority is the child, so his loyalties may change.” Obi-Wan knew parents - good parents, at least - did whatever they had to do to keep their child safe.

“He may surprise you, Master Kenobi,” Master Plo said, smiling softly. “There is a certain admiration from him that may make him prove himself to us…or just you.”

Obi-Wan smiled at the words, knowing what the other man was talking about. Paz projected loudly into the Force despite being Force Null and it was hard to ignore what he was feeling when only two feet away from the man. It was amusing in a way since it was also obvious that the taller man was trying to keep control of his crush even with how gruff he acted.

“I see what you’re saying, Master,” Obi-Wan says, neither confirming nor denying the other man’s words. But with the way Master Plo smiled at him from beneath his mask - in that way that said he knew despite the calm exterior - Obi-Wan had been caught. “We’ll need to send a message to the Council and see what they will decide. Paz helping us could change the course of the war.”

“It might, it might not. Let us focus on how he got here, Master Kenobi.”

Obi-Wan nodded in agreement. That’s when Cody returned with Waxer and one of the Wolfpack. Sinker, he believes, is the trooper’s name. They stationed themselves near the door and Cody moved to escort the Jedi to messaging the Council once they explained what they were going to do.

The three of them passed many troopers and soldiers of the Wolfpack, greeting them with a wave when they said hello. Obi-Wan felt the difference between the more experienced soldiers and troopers and the shinies when filtering their emotions in the Force. The shines pushed excitement through the Force at seeing two Jedi together and so close to them, in awe that Generals would give them a speck of attention. It was a burst of emotion, something they had to learn how to mute over time when being close to any Jedi.

The more experienced trooper and soldier were glad to see them, even momentarily happy to receive a wave from their Generals. But it was muted, a bit easier to shift through and acknowledge than the bright bit of emotions in the Force that came from the inexperienced soldiers.

But even if it was too much at points, Obi-Wan smiled at the unbridled excitement, happy to see these men find joy in something in this war. Despite what the Kaminoans claimed about the clones, they were living beings and deserved to live like any other natural-born being. No two clones were the same despite most looking the same.

Maybe he was biased since he could see their signature in the Force, sense their emotions and even saw how many deviated from regulations to give themselves a unique haircut or style. On occasion there were even tattoos involved, each special to that clone and how could Obi-Wan not see their individuality when faced with all of that?

He was snapped out of his mind when his Commander gently pressed a gloved hand to his shoulder. Cody was wearing his helmet, but Obi-Wan could still see the question of concern in the way the man’s shoulders were positioned, the slight head tilt that was accompanied with it. A breath in and then a breath out and Obi-Wan gave him a smile, one that said he was fine.

Then he turned his attention to Master Plo - who had walked towards one of the consoles - and followed the man. There were many clones in the room, keeping busy to make sure maintenance was kept up, that messages were always coming in and out from this ship to others in the Republic fleet. 

One was standing near a droid, talking to the machine as he cleaned them up. There was a soft smile on the man’s face, one that reminded Obi-Wan of Anakin when he was talking to R2 or fixing up the droid. He stood to attention when Master Plo came by, still holding the rag in his hand as he saluted.

“Trooper Click, may we borrow Q7-7H once more?” Master Plo asked softly, smiling beneath his mask. 

Click immediately answered, excitement bursting through the Force while doing so. “Of course, sir! Anything for you and General Kenobi!” He said quickly, dropped his hand that was saluting. Right over his eyebrow was a dark stain, one that obviously came from the rag. “Q7, can you set up the console for the Generals?”

The droid gave an answer in the form of beeps - one that made Click feel immense relief as he turned towards the nearest console. He was a shiny, ready to impress the Generals and it put a smile on Obi-Wan’s face. Cody at his side huffed his amusement at the sight. 

“Think you gained another follower, General?” He asked, voice low enough that only the three of them could hear. Obi-Wan resisted the urge to roll his eyes at the statement.

“A frequent occurrence for your general, Commander Cody?” Master Plo asked slyly, an amused smile hidden beneath his mask. 

“I imagine it’s the same for you, sir,” Cody said to Master Plo, amusement colouring every word. “I’m sure Commander Wolffe could tell me all about it.”

Master Plo laughed at this, happiness and amusement shining through the Force. “He would have a lot to say, Commander. Though I suspect it would come with biting barbs and sarcastic tones.”

“Sirs?” They all turned to Click who stood stiffly at the console. “Q7 is setting up a connection.” Q7 beeped something at the trooper which made Click blush and hunch over from embarrassment as he tapped the top of the droid’s spinning head. “Not now, Q7! Behave!”

Obi-Wan and Master Plo shared a look - one that spoke about all the teasing that was thrown at each other about this - and then stepped towards the console. Commander Cody took his place at Obi-Wan’s back, watching over his shoulder while the meeting would happen. Click moved to another part of the room without being asked, still blushing.

It only took a few seconds for the console to show Master Windu in the holo. 

“There is news to report about the prisoner, Master Plo, Master Kenobi?” Mace asked, calm and collected. He looked down at them, studying them as he waited for their answer.

“Yes, Master Windu,” Obi-Wan started,” It will be quite a report.”

“I assume it involves impossible details similar to all your other reports.” Master Windu said. 

“Yes,” Obi-Wan says, “It does involve that.”

“Then tell me, Master Kenobi.”

And so he did. The other Council members listened as Obi-Wan and Master Plo explained the situation and what they had learned so far from their prisoner, Paz. It wasn't a long or poignant explanation, but Obi-Wan knew that they were all interested in the prisoner who had somehow travelled back in time from the near future where the Republic had suddenly crumbled and been replaced by an Empire - one that was oppressive and caused much distress when speaking about it.

Mace looks thoughtful after Obi-Wan finishes his part of the explanation. “He tells the truth, Master Kenobi?”

“He was very distressed when learning when he was and where he was being held. Nevermind the fact that he used a date system that neither Master Koon nor I have ever heard of.” He watches as Mace takes in this information, using the few seconds of quiet to think over everything Obi-Wan said. 

“Then we’ll have to bring him here to question. He must have a clue for us to figure out what happened for the Republic’s sudden downfall.” Mace said finally. “If he doesn’t, then we can aid him in finding a way for him to get home.”

“Is there a way to intentionally time travel?” Obi-Wan asks. Accidentally stumbling into it or finding wormholes to time travel was one thing. But doing so intentionally? That required skill and power that he felt none of them had.

“We comb through the Archive and see,” Mace says and Obi-Wan nods in agreement. He had missed his visits to Master Jocasta Nu since being promoted as General for the war. She always had something new for him to study and had a tale or two to tell about the rare books and scrolls she went looking for.

Obi-Wan was sure that she would be happy to see him as well. Especially if he brought her a challenge like Mace was suggesting. 

“Of course. We’ll bring the prisoner to you.” Master Plo says, clicking his nails as he folds his hands together.

“Make sure to keep his presence a secret when landing,” Mace said, brow furrowing. “I believe that knowledge about him and what he might know about will draw unwanted attention.”

Code for  _ ‘Do not let the Senate know.’ _

“Understood Master Windu,” Obi-Wan said. The man nodded and disappeared from the holo, leaving him and Master Plo with the need to get back to the Temple.

Obi-Wan only hopes the usual shenanigans that plagued his missions wouldn’t hinder them on the way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jetiise - Jedi, plural  
> Utreekov - Fool, idiot (literal empty head)
> 
> And I've come back with a new chapter! It's my Christmas gift to you since you were all patient for an update while I got through my semester. (I got through all my classes, yay!) I missed writing for this fic so much. I'm hoping I can give at least two more updates for this fic before I have to go back to school for the Spring semester. It all depends on how willing my creative energy is and if I don't allow myself to get caught up in other fics for other fandoms lol.
> 
> Hopefully, it was a fun chapter to read! :D


	11. Chapter Eleven

The Armorer watched as Cara and Din were brought into the main hall, surrounded by the pirates as they laughed and jeered. Hondo at her side shifted to sit up, spreading his arms in a joyful manner, smiling widely. “There are our guests! Come, come, enjoy yourselves!” He proclaimed, making the Armorer side-eye him. 

There had been rumours, whispers among travellers about Hondo for years that she had heard. He wasn’t the most well-known pirate - many weren’t known due to infighting and tearing each other apart with their greed - but he was talked about enough that she knew to keep an eye on him. He would do anything to get a profit even if it meant betraying a customer to someone who would bid a higher price.

She couldn’t let him do that to any of them, not when they had to find Paz and the ad’ika. 

“What are your names?” Hondo asked, still appearing as cheerfully polite. Part of it was an act, but it was genuine enough that anyone who didn’t know his tricks would be lulled by it. 

“Din,” Din replied cautiously, only giving his first name. She sensed that the man was looking her way, confused about this whole interaction. She knew that he knew the same rumours and whispers about the Weequay, probably even more with how he lived his life. He was right to be cautious, to not give out a last name.

“Cara Dune,” Her girlfriend replied, looking at the Weequay with muted distrust. She let it slide off her face when Hondo waved his hands for the two of them to join him at the table. 

Din sat on one side of Hondo while Cara sat on the other side of the Armorer’s. Then she and Cara shred a keldabe kiss, establishing themselves as partners to the pirates. A subtle move to crowd in the pirate leader without raising too much suspicion. After all, who would want to separate two lovers from each other?

“Aha! That’s why you were so worried about getting them back! You missed your girlfriend!” Hondo said triumphantly, as loudly as possible. The pirates who heard, laughed gleefully, not seeing her as much of a threat due now. Not like their leader did as he side-eyed the two of them. 

The Armorer would play this to their benefit, once the man tried to capture them and sell them off. It was a matter of when and where the Weequay would strike that they had to keep track of. 

As the pirates all went back to drinking and dancing and singing, Cara wrote four words on her hand that had no glove underneath the table.  _ ‘Can you trust him?’ _

She wrote back, _ ’ Watch him.’ _

Cara didn’t react outwardly to that. Instead, she snuggled closer to her, playing up being the stranded girlfriend of a Mandalorian to the rest of the room. Meanwhile, the Armorer watched Din as the man avoided answering personal questions by Hondo. Nobody would be able to crack anything personal about the man, he’d seen to it that after he had taken up the Creed. Dodging questions, giving one-worded answers, even silences that stretched out long enough that it made Hondo skip onto the next question.

The Armorer was proud that Din was unsettling the man, giving them a chance to negotiate buying a ship and getting off this planet to find Paz. They would need every scrap of luck if they were to survive during the Clone Wars.

She’d remembered the Clone Wars. She was younger, so much younger when it started and continued on. She remembered her mother and father and that they lived in Iridonia during that time, growing up with them until she was considered a young teen by human standards. She remembered being separated from them while travelling on a trade trip by pirates - not Hondo’s crew, these were pirates looking for ships that wouldn’t be missed and turning them into scrap by force - and then finding their corpses when she escaped their hold.

The Armorer’s memories blur here, bits and pieces of stealing and running over a course of a year. Everything was focused on surviving and making sure she wasn’t caught by either the Republic or the Separatists. Neither side would be kind to her, even if she explained why she had stolen all that she’d had and ran away from her home.

She’d been taken in by Death Watch at some point after that, finding her lost and alone and no way to return back to her home in Iridonia. The woman who had taken her in was kind, had seen she didn’t want to return to the life she had before. The Armorer had found comfort with her, accepting her as a parent while being taught how to live and talk as a Mandalorian. She was away from the Clone Wars, safe from either side taking her and throwing her into prison for a life she hadn’t chosen.

She knew somewhere out there, her younger self was experiencing this life. But she knew better than to interfere in any way. She had a hard life, one that would make many gawks at her if they’d heard it all in one telling. But she wouldn’t change it, not when it had led her to the family and friends she had gained as a result.

At some point, Hondo had given up talking to Din and turned his attention towards her. She saw the gleam in his eyes, desperate for some conversation that would lead to some more profit. It made her smile, cornering him where she needed to be.

It was time to put her diplomatic skills to the test.

_________

Din watched as Hondo turned and started to talk to the Armorer, desperate for conversation after trying to strike up one with him. He smiled, glad for the helmet covering his face as he listened to a bit of the conversation while he went to scan the room through the visor. Many of the pirates were dancing and drinking, partying which meant they had come back from getting a good haul before the Armorer showed up. It didn’t mean that they weren’t above trying to do something in order to sell them off for profit.

Din had seen it before when bounty hunting. Pirates would take in bounties as an afterthought if they happened to catch one while chasing a good price to earn a bit more. It was a pain in the ass to bargain with pirates since they don’t follow rules or standards and only went for the person they could bleed the most money out of.

One of the Weequays brought the table a round of drinks, smiling brightly at all of them as they were placed in front of each person. “Have a drink with me! It would be rude not to offer my guests who I rescued anything to drink.” Hondo said joyfully, taking a drink from his new glass.

The glass placed in front of Din had a straw sticking out of it, most likely put there since neither he nor the Armorer had taken their helmets off since arriving here. Still, he looks at it with suspicion, wondering if they would try to spike their drinks with something in order to tie them up once they became unconscious. It would be the easiest way to get a Mandalorian unconscious without having to actually fight them. 

He looks to the Armorer, wishing he could talk to her to see what they should do. In the lowlights of the room, her golden helmet doesn’t shine, only reflecting the colours that flash. Din returns his gaze to the drink, moving to pick it up.

Cara gets up from the table, drink in hand. She moves towards him and sits on his lap, snuggling as close as she did with the Armorer. Din tries hard not to stiffen up as this happens, knowing why Cara was doing this as she takes his hand into hers with a wide grin. He swallows and lets her take the lead in giving the appearance that she was his girlfriend as well.

Din knew that if Paz ever got wind of this, the man would tease him forever for having to look like he and Cara were a thing to pirates. It wouldn’t matter the context, Paz would tease regardless, that’s just how he was.

While the pirates whooped at the sight - even Hondo gave a hearty chuckle at the display of the very public affection - Cara was writing into his palm the words  _ ‘Don’t drink,’  _ all while giving a flirty smirk that was edged with mischief as she looked into his visor. Din swallows again, wondering what she would do to him once they weren’t in sight of the pirates. Tease him definitely, most likely arm wrestle him and maybe demand that he let her give him a punch to his shoulder for having to do that in front of her girlfriend.

He isn’t sure if he would prefer Paz or Cara after this whole situation is done.

“Now we can get down to business. What do you want from me, Armorer?” Hondo says, sounding delighted after shifting his attention from Din and Cara to the Armorer. Din couldn’t see the Weequay’s face as he had to pretend to snuggle closer to Cara, but the man’s voice was loud enough that he could listen in.

“We would like a ship.” The Armorer says, “Do you have any you could spare for us?

Hondo takes a moment to reply which Cara takes the time to write out  _ ‘Bet?’ _ on his hand. With his other hand, he taps once for yes on top of her hand. The smile on her face is enough for Din to internally sigh as she started to write out numbers to bet on.

_ ‘5 for fight.’ _ Two taps from him. 

“Do you have anything more that could pay for taking one of our ships? We do have a business to run after all.” Hondo said. Din could practically hear the counting of money going on in the Weequay’s head as he waited for the Armorer to answer.

_ ‘10 for fight?’ _ Another two taps.

“I can only provide a bit more Beskar to you, but nothing more.” She said, keeping it short and clipped. He knew that the pirate would get nothing more out of her.

_ ‘15 for fight? 20 for agreement?’  _ With this, he taps once. Anything higher and Cara would be needling for more outrageous scenarios that involved her girlfriend winning in the end. Din wasn’t that much of a gambling man to say that many could take out the Armorer short of cheating their victory against her. 

“Is that all you have to offer, Armorer?” The Weequay asks. “Just some more beskar?”

Ah, pirate greed. It always shows its ugly head even when being offered one of the more sought out materials of the galaxy. Din has to temporarily grip his cup to keep his anger from bursting, from taking control after hearing the question. It would be stupid to say or do anything now, they were so close to getting off this planet, away from the pirates.

The Armorer tilts her head as if she were considering his greedy demands. Then smoothly, calmly, she says,” No, I, unfortunately, don’t have anything more to offer than the beskar, but I’m sure you’ll make a great fortune selling it back to other Mandalorians. Death Watch is always looking for more in their conquest to get back Mandalore.” A pause and Din senses that she was smiling now as she said,” Certainly not the New Mandalorians or the dispersed Haat’ Adde would be offering you anything good to have this back in their possession.”

The noise near the table died down as Hondo kept staring at the Armorer, his emotions coming out in brief moments of expression. The pirates watched as their leader stared down the Mandalorian, a few reaching for their weapons in anticipation of a fight that would surely break out between them. Din tensed for a few moments as this happened, wondering if the three of them could fight their way out to steal a ship.

The likelihood of doing that without any kind of injury was very low. Doing it with only a few minor injuries was about the same result. The one with the highest outcome of happening was of course dying as they tried to escape, but they couldn’t afford that. Not when they were closer to finding Paz and his kid then they were back at the Sith temple. 

“Are you sure that the New Mandalorians wouldn’t pay to have you and him back?” Hondo asked, still and watching the Armorer. “I see the symbol on your shoulder and that ain’t anything those New Mandalorians would want to associate with, more likely to take you back to Mandalore and dump you on one of their moons.”

There’s a smile on his face as he continues to speak. “I also hear that Pre Vizsla also isn’t kind to those who ditch Death Watch either.”

Everything came crashing down as Din suddenly realized when they were. 

The Clone Wars. The thing that brought the Separatist droids into his village and had killed his parents. That brought him to Death Watch, to be a foundling since there were no others to take care of him.

There was a sudden want to let out a sob at this realization. All that came out was a shuddering breath, muffled by his helmet. So much could be changed with this, including his own life. What would the difference be if he could actually live his life with his parents? Or have the universe not be ruled over by an Empire that sought out to hunt the Mandalorians like they were pests, meant to be crushed under the Imperials boots, what would that be like?

Would he still have met his buir? Paz? The Armorer? Cara? Would he have still found his way to becoming a Mandalorian or would he have been doing something else, like being a farmer with his parents?

A part of him says yes, all hopeful that he would have found his way to the people who cared about him and lived as a Mandalorian. But another part definitely says no.

The changes he wanted to do couldn’t be done. 

Not if he wanted to keep his husband nor find his kid. Both who have wormed their way into his heart and wouldn’t be pried out no matter what would happen. Din couldn’t lose that, couldn't lose that for all the what if’s and maybes that his mind pondered over.

Suddenly there was something thrown at him, hitting him square in the helmet and he reacted by pulling his blaster out to shoot. Over him, Cara pulled out a small blaster, pretty looking, but packing a punch when one of the Weequay pirates went down with a blaster shot to the stomach. They stayed close for a few minutes, taking down pirates as the Armorer chased after Hondo down the length of the table, a blunt object in her hand to take any shots from the pirate leader that came her way.

They were forced to split up when the pirates started to surround them. Din handed off his blaster to her and pulled his Amban rifle from his back and went to fight off the pirates. He climbed the table in two easy steps and took a shot, aiming for a pirate that looked like they were about to take a shot at the Armorer from behind her. They disintegrated, leaving this hideout with a cut off scream as they turned to dust.

Din turned and took another shot, this time at a nearby Weequay, watching the same thing happen again. He keeps making shots, moving down the table and taking down the pirates quicker than they could comprehend all the while ignoring the pain in his legs for daring to move and stand up. Along with his shots, Cara dives into the middle of a few pirates, taking them down with a few placed shots and a punch to the head or gut. Dust started to coat every Weequay that was shot down by Cara. Din made sure to keep all the pirates from getting close to the Armorer.

If Hondo was willing to pick a fight with two Mandalorians and a Rebel paratrooper then he was going to learn what that meant. 

In quick glimpses, he sees the two fighting. The pirate leader was sloopy, dodging more than giving any kind of hit to the Armorer. When he does go for a hit, it doesn’t pack any power, only grazing the armour rather than denting it. She was graceful as she always was, fluidly dodging or blocking any hits that came her way. Her strikes are quick and powerful, making Hondo become slower and leave himself open for more attacks.

Din turns to see Cara still fighting, diving into every possible group she can. She was rough, more brute than fluidness and more than willing to take a hit than block it. But there was a reason behind her movements as she kept taking down the pirates. She was willing to fight dirty and keep changing the rules as a way to keep her opponent from gaining any kind of footing. 

He jumps down from the table, joining her once more. Din quickly electrocutes a pirate when they try to sneak up on Cara, enjoying seeing the pirate let out a half-strangled groan and hitting the floor twitching. He turns his head in time to see another pirate flopping to the floor with a blaster shot right to the heart. Cara smirks, delighting in this before going back to the fight.

It continued, making sure to cover for each other and the Armorer, hoping that when this all came to an end, they weren’t left bleeding. Despite being a ragtag group of pirates, there was a reason why strength in numbers was often preferred over skill. Easier to overpower someone if they couldn’t escape many hands or feet or weapons a crowd has.

It came to a stop when Hondo shouted, “Wait!”

He and Cara stopped, weapons in hand as well as the pirates, all turning towards the pirate leader. His hands were pulled behind him, worry and fear on his face as he looked at the group paused in the fighting. Behind him, the Armorer’s helmet shined weakly in the light, showing that she was still here.

“Wait, stop fighting. We’ve come to an agreement.” Hondo says loudly. His voice doesn’t waver, but Din knew that there was still fear in the man as he stared down at his pirates. 

“And what agreement is that, Boss?” One of the pirates shouts.

“They take me in exchange for them giving me the beskar they have so they can have a ship.”

There was silence. Then everything erupted as the pirates disagreed with this agreement by moving as one towards their leader and the Armorer. Din, despite taking a moment to take in this fact, quickly kicks himself into action by turning on his jetpack. 

Despite having a headstart over him, Din quickly flew to his leader, taking the Weequay from her and flying off. He heard her fighting the crowd, keeping their attention off of him so that he could escape with their hostage and Cara. He lands near the woman and she quickly grabs the pirate, dragging him along. 

Hondo shouts while this all goes on, trying to get a few of his crew to notice. But he is outshined by the Armorer with her skills in combat and golden armour. They drag him out of the hideout, pausing for a moment when they see all the ships that were powered down. 

“Which ship do we take?” Cara said, eyes flickering over the scene. Her grip tightens on Hondo when he tries to squirm out.

“Why would I tell you?” He shouts, still trying to escape her grip.

“Does it look like I was asking you?” She snapped. “Din, you see anything good here?”

Din looks over the area, trying to see if there was a ship that would hold four or more people if needed. Many were small, mostly personal vehicles or small heists for the pirates to take. 

Then he spots it, hiding in the far corner of the dugout. It’s covered by a few small ships surrounding it, but Din can tell it’s big enough and is willing to make big jumps in hyperspace. “That right there,” He says, pointing towards it.

There’s an annoyed sigh from Hondo, but he comes along with them as they head towards the ship. As they approached it, Din saw that it wasn’t open, closed and shut down. He lets go of Hondo in favour of getting closer to the ship. He hears the pirate trying to get out of Cara’s grip and her telling him to knock it off.

The ship wasn’t locked. Why would it ever need to be when it was parked in what you consider the place you lived surrounded by people who you trust enough to suddenly not nab it.

Din gets it to open, the door lowering itself down to the ground. He goes up, followed by Cara and the Hondo. Inside, he goes for the cockpit while Cara goes to find something that’ll tie up the Weequay. Sitting down in a seat, Din takes in all the technology in front of him. It was similar to the Razor Crest, most of the buttons and levers in similar places. There were a few things he didn’t know about, but it was likely he wouldn’t need to know about them when taking off.

But it reminded him that they were in the past. A past on the brink of becoming a familiar present for Din and the rest of this group. Who knows where the kriff his kid and husband end up when travelling to the past.

One side hopes they’re somewhere good. The other is sure that they were captured by Separatists or by Death Watch led by Pre Vizsla.

Din closes his eyes, squeezing hard enough until bursts of colour and shapes appear in the darkness. It hurts, hurts so much. But it gets him to focus when he opens his eyes. He doesn’t turn to hear the commotion of Hondo yelling, only focuses on getting the ship up and running for the Armorer so that she could escape with them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another update! I'm so happy I was able to do this bc for the last week I was a bit bedridden. Gave myself a stress-induced migraine a few hours after battling against Xehanort as a final boss in Kingdom Hearts 3 (wouldn't let me heal despite barraging me with his attacks and made me die few times, so I was pretty heated lol.) It only lasted a day, but it was so bad that I literally went into a 4-hour nap to escape the pounding headache. Which lead to me being very tired for the few days after that, so I wasn't in the mood to think about plot and stuff when writing future chapters for this lol.
> 
> But since I'm giving myself a break from KH3 (despite how much the rest of the game doesn't stress me out), I'll be working on this fic. Gotta get in an update or two before Spring Semester comes knocking at my door.
> 
> Hopefully, it was a fun chapter to read! :D


	12. Chapter Twelve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ad'ika - Little One  
> Riduur - Partner, Wife, Husband  
> Jetti - Jedi  
> Lek - Yeah
> 
> Another update! I was so excited to put this one out with what I've included in it, especially the Armorer with the chickling (basically a chick, but in space) and Paz spending time with Grogu. I'm planning on updating this fic once more before the semester starts and then waiting on updating it until the end of it bc of course work. If I do manage to update during that time, just consider it a surprise like last time lol.
> 
> Hopefully, it was a fun chapter to read.

Despite what many would think, the Armorer is calm and collected as she fights off the pirates. They came at her, expecting to take her down with their large group and ended up laying on the floor as she went for the next one, not stopping for a moment. She couldn’t afford to, not when Cara and Din needed her to keep the rest of the pirates distracted as they went to find a ship to escape off this planet. It was almost reactionary, no spare thought beyond,  _ ‘hit here, press there, smash here,’  _ to take down her opponents.

It became a rhythm, one that she hadn’t done since the Storm Troopers had come down into the tunnels to search for Din and the child. They had gone down as well, not expecting her to use her smithing tools as weapons nor that she had skills to take down a group without assistance. It was the same with the pirates, the way they just continuously ran up to her expecting a different outcome when fighting against her bare hands. 

Also, them shooting uselessly at the durasteel armour. Almost as if they were expecting to get that lucky shot, that  _ one  _ lucky shot to take her down. They didn’t realize that their leader had been taken with her friends, that she was only being a distraction to keep them from realizing this fact. No, instead they continue to fight her, almost frenzied with how they try to take swings at her and find a weak spot in her armour with their blasters.

A crack is felt underneath her fist, the pirate falling to the floor. Quickly another takes his place, lashing out with his fists. She blocks her hits, waiting for an opening that would send him crumbling to the floor. Behind her, another shot is taken at her back and she decides quickly that these two needed to be dealt with quickly. The Armorer punches the pirate in the face and grips the one pirate by the back of his neck as he sways on his feet. She swings him around with enough force to fly the air and crash into the other pirate who was shooting at her back.

This results in more pirates surging to get her and she takes them all down as her teachers had taught her. 

A well-placed punch and kick takes down several of them before her comm crackles to life in her ear. “Can you escape?” Din asks as the Armorer kicks at the back of a pirate’s knee.

The pirate falls forward, screaming her head off about the pain as the Armorer answers,” I can.”

“Good, we have a ship. Meet us outside.” Din says as she kicks the side of the pirate’s head. They slump to the ground and she turns to face the exit of the room. 

There weren't that many pirates between her and the door, something that fills her chest with relief. The last thing they needed was the decision to leave her behind as a result of foolishly being overrun by pirates. They had to find Paz and the child and then find a way home. They couldn’t afford any more accidents or mistakes that resulted in them splitting up even further. 

She takes a few more pirates down, noting that more and more were scattering away now that there wasn’t a crowd to protect them from a Mandalorian. At some point, there’s only one left and she stares them down, hoping they would run off to join their comrades in abandoning fighting against her. They don’t flee. Instead, they just raise their fists and snarl at her as they come running at her.

They swing their one fist which she blocks with her forearm. The other that comes right after, she grips and uses their momentum to flip them onto their back. She hears the surprised gasp with how forcefully they hit the ground, losing their breath as well. The Armorer presses a boot to their chest and grabs the pirate by their horns. They claw at her boot, gasping for air as she lifts their head and slams the back of their head into the ground. Their eyes rolled to the back of their head after she did it again, slumping to the ground in her hands.

She lets them go and walks towards the exit, stepping over bodies and picking up a few blasters for herself, stuff them into her pouches. No better way of getting weapons or trading for credits for other needed supplies with their current situation. As she gets close to the exit, she hears the soft sound of an engine and she knows it’s her friends waiting for her. Stepping out of the building, she sees its a relatively decent sized ship hovering in the air and that would hold all four of them for the time being. 

The ramp opens up as she walks towards the ship and she smiles beneath her visor. With a running start, she jumps and catches the edge of the ramp. Pulling herself up, the Armorer hears her comm crackle to life once more. 

“Are you on, Armorer?” He asks as she stands up. “I don’t want to risk the rest of his crew wising up to what’s happened to Hondo.” 

“I’ll be in, Din. Just make sure to get us away from here.” She tells him, walking up the ramp. The Armorer walks into the ship and looks around to see that it’s relatively clean. The ramp closes up behind her, locking everyone in. She feels the movement of the ship beneath her feet as it heads towards the atmosphere.

She takes a moment to herself, letting her sense relax for a moment. From a bit further in the ship, she hears Hondo and Cara arguing with each other, mostly about his treatment as an unintended prisoner. There’s the light sound of chirping mixed in as well, it being ignored by everyone on board. Everyone except for her that is.

The Armorer follows the sound, finding a cage sitting on a table in the common room that has a small chickling chirping rather anxiously from it. The chickling was covered with soft gray fuzz, still too young to grow in feathers that she saw from the adults of the species. As it runs around the cage, chirping distressingly, the Armorer moves to sit at the table.

It runs into the corner, it’s chirping increasing in volume as it tries to get away from her. She stares at it for a moment before searching through her pouch that held a few ration bars. She takes it out, peels the wrapper off, breaks part of it off and then crushes it on the table so it would be small enough for the chickling to peck at. Then as best as she could, the Armorer sweeps the crush ration into her hand and drops the crush ration into the cage without getting her hand too close to the chickling.

It chirps loudly for a few more seconds before realizing that food had been dropped into its cage. It stops and stares at the food, breathing heavily enough that its tiny chest is moving up and down rapidly - mostly likely scared out its mind at a stranger coming near it. In the background, she hears Hondo shouting, still on about how Cara was treating him.

With caution, the chickling moves its neck to peer down at the specks of food on the floor of its cage. Then with a single peck, eats a piece. A pause as it processes it. Then with continued caution, it continues to peck at the food, looking up every few pecks to look at the Armorer, making sure she doesn’t try anything. 

She leans back in the chair, to watch the chickling as she listens to the soft hum of the ship’s engine. The creature had to be a pet for one of the pirates she’d beaten up since it was on board already and had everything in its cage. Still young enough that it could become a loving companion for trips that took several days to find a target that would yield profit.

“You should handle me better! Especially if you’re going to hand me off to the highest bidder!” The Armorer hears Hondo shout as he’s led into the common room. “Damaged goods will get you a lower price!”

“Is that your philosophy, Hondo?” She asks, still watching the chickling peck at the crushed ration.

“Of course! I offer quality to my paying customers, Armorer.” He says, a bit calmer as he flashes a smile her way. “It’s what they pay for after all.”

“You mean they pay for stolen goods,” Cara said, rolling her eyes. She moves him to sit across the table from the Armorer and stand behind him. 

His hands were bound by rope, sitting in his lap. They clearly didn’t bother him as he leaned back into his seat, loudly saying,” You slander me, I was taking those goods off their hands. You can’t blame me for jumping at a good opportunity that they couldn’t see!”

Cara rolls her eyes once more, not saying anything else to the pirate as she comes around the table to sit near the Armorer. She watches as the Armorer puts in more crushed rations into the chickling’s cage, the creature starting to warm up to the Armorer feeding it food.

”You just can’t appreciate a humble man running a good business.” Hondo says, smiling wide. His hands spread open, wiggling his fingers. He was playing the fool to them despite the fact they’d caught onto his act earlier.

Cara snorts as the Armorer leans back into her chair. She reaches over to the other woman to hold her hand, wanting some contact after the day they experienced in their search for Paz and the child. Cara wraps her fingers around the Armorer’s hand, a small smile directed at her beneath Cara’s swooping hair. 

She was content with this, that they were out of danger. At least until all of them figured out a way to find Paz.

The chickling peeped for a moment, standing to one side of the cage that was closest to the Armorer, obviously hungry for more of the crushed up ration she had. She moves to crush more on the table, still holding her girlfriend’s hand in the process. Then she let’s go and scoops up the ration to put in the cage, smiling when she sees the chickling pepping excitedly while pecking at the food.

“I see you found our chickling,” Hondo said. He sounded less like a pushy merchant and more of a shrewd pirate that the Armorer had heard about. Which made her suspicious as he watched both her and Cara while leaning back in his chair. “Cute, isn’t it?”

“An astute observation,” She says, watching him closely. “Why was it alone on the ship?”

“It was being kept here while I figured out how to house it in here. One of the men suggested it be my companion while travelling for great business deals.” Hondo explained. As he does, he lifts a leg and crosses it over his lap, looking more comfortable than he ought to be for a captured leader.

“That all?” She asks, tone level.

“I was also excited for free eggs while travelling when it grew old enough, I will admit. It’s a luxury I hadn’t been able to afford before.” He answers. It was honest enough, something she hadn’t expected from the Weequay.

“That’s all?” Cara asks, butting in. She leans forward, eyes narrowing in suspicion. The Armorer watches, wondering if she would have to interfere at some point. “That’s all you have to say to us, pirate?”

“Hondo doesn’t give away all his secrets. Otherwise, he would be out of business!” The Weequay says cheerfully, a smile bright on his face.

“I don’t think you being out of business would be a bad thing,” Cara says lowly. The Armorer sits up a bit straighter, sensing the gut feeling her girlfriend was about to reach across the table to strangle Hondo. “In fact, I think many people would be glad about that.”

“You’d have to explain yourself to my customers then! Also, General Kenobi since he’s a big fan of mine!” Hondo said, tone light and filled with cheer.

That had the Armorer stop in her mind, wondering why the pirate dropped such a name. She’d never met the man, only heard about him in terms of how he kept Duchess Satine alive during a crucial period in recent Mandalore history. In fact, she was sure he perished along with the rest of the Jedi in their own Purge right before the Clone War was declared to be over.

How far back were they in the war? And how likely were they to change things if they couldn’t find Paz right away? 

The Armorer knew she shouldn’t change the future, not unless she and the others with her were willing to deal with the consequences that came with that decision. It would be a dauntless task, one that required everyone to be fully committed, including anyone in this era to help them.

“Are you close enough with Master Kenobi?” The Armorer asked, surprising both Cara and Hondo. She watches as her girlfriend subtly tilts her head in a way that’s supposed to be silently asking her what she’s doing. She continues. “Could you contact him to meet up with us?”

Hondo, smiling wide as he says,” I think I have a way of contacting him. I’m sure he has an opening currently in his schedule as one of the Generals for the Republic.”

_________

Paz woke up to the child on his chest, curled around themselves as they continued to sleep. He watches them for a moment, seeing them rise and fall with the movement of their breathing. It was calming to see them safe, tired enough to have finally gotten some sleep after the day they both experienced. He looks to the side to see the date and time displayed, showing that Paz had slept until the early hours of what counted for the morning on this ship. Paz stays in the bed for a few more minutes before gently picking the kid off his chest as he sits up. They made a soft snuffling sound and shifted in their sleep when he placed them on the mattress.

He goes to use the refresher, stepping close to the stall to start the water. Paz waits a minute before stepping into the stall, shutting the stall door behind him. The warm water moves over his skin, a luxury that makes Paz sigh in relief as his muscles start to relax. He stands there for a few minutes, losing himself in the warmth and the sensation of water moving over his skin rather than the vibrations caused by a sonic. 

Then he grabs the bar of bacterial soap and starts to clean himself with it. The grim and old sweat comes off, making Paz feel better and much cleaner by the time he goes for a gel to wash his hair. He rubs the gel in, feeling it become bubbly beneath his hands, his eyes closing so he doesn't accidentally get any of the gel in his eyes. While this is happening, the kid comes into the refresher, making sounds that almost sound like words, but are not quite there yet.

Paz pauses in rubbing the gel and opens his eyes to see a blurry shape of the kid standing outside the stall door. He smiles as he opens it partway to see their big eyes staring up at him. There was a light coo, one that Paz has come to know as a question from the ad’ika. 

“Cleaning myself, Ad’ika,” He said. “I’ll be out soon.”

Another coo as he closes the door, this one pleading. “Can’t come in, I’m almost done with mine. But I’ll help you with your bath after mine.”

They continue to make noises, ones that were closer to them babbling to themselves than anything that needed to be answered by Paz. He puts his head under the spray, closing his eyes as he gets the suds of the hair gel out of his hair. It didn’t take long and his hair felt lighter now that it wasn’t weighed down by grim and grease. 

Paz opens the stall door and grabs for the towel to wipe himself down. The kid continues to babble as they put their hand on his leg, trying to grab his attention. He rubs his hair with the towel for a moment, trying to get as much water out of it as possible. 

When that’s done, he focuses his attention on the kid. He crouches down to pick them up, listening to them as their babbling becomes excited. Paz takes off their cloak and puts them in the stall, watching them as they went to stand under the spray. Their noises became content, humming a low sound that they made every time that they were allowed to be in the water. They then started to play with the water, catching some of the drops in mid-air with the Force.

Paz watched as he went out of the refresher temporarily to grab some blacks, just to make sure they didn’t cause a huge mess. There was a huge squeal from the kid as they started to jump up and down, making the water splash in the stall. He returns, putting clothing out of reach of the child and goes to start washing them.

It takes a bit since they squirm during certain parts and run off when they don’t feel like doing some things in a particular moment. Paz waits for them to return, trying to be gentle and efficient as possible when they do. He’s reminded of the foundlings in the Covert that he’d help with sometimes during these moments with the kid. There wasn’t always a need for him on watch duty, so he would be wrangled in with the other members of the clan to help keep the foundlings engaged and clean.

Din was an exception since he was off bounty hunting to keep the Covert afloat. Once trust had been established between them so many months ago, Paz helped out where he could with the kid knowing that sometimes Din was lost when it came to certain parts of raising a foundling. He had learned through his mistakes, but there were always blind spots that needed to be filled and Paz knew better than to expect Din to ask for help.

Din had been extremely independent, more than a man of his age should be when it came to stuff like this. Paz wondered about that sometimes, what the cause of it was. His riduur never spoke about his life before coming to the Covert and Paz never got anything from the Armorer beyond a stated fact that Din had been found in battle.

Maybe his riduur would open up about it one day, but for now, Paz learned the small signs that helped him understand when Din was struggling and when he was fine.

Paz sighs, remembering how far he was from his husband. He hopes that he and the jetii can find a way back to his time so that he and the kid can reunite with Din. He misses his husband and he’s sure the kid does as well despite being surrounded by their own kind currently.

He washes them off one final time and then takes them out to be dried off by the towel. The towel surrounds them, muffling their giggles as he goes through the routine motions, smiling as he peaks in to see their big eyes staring up at him. “Silly, silly Ad’ika,” He says, trying to keep himself from laughing. “Why’re you so silly?”

An answering coo and Paz feels himself smiling wider as he says “Oh, that’s why? I should have known.”

There came a light giggle from them and Paz pulled the towel off of them. He dresses them back up in their cloak and then lets them go as he goes to put his blacks on. It was tight, showing more than Paz was used to. One doesn’t realize how much they come to like wearing the armour until they’re forced to stay out of it for a few days. But it was better than nothing, so Paz won’t complain. 

Maybe he can convince Obi-Wan to give him back his armour. Try to work on the trust between them, show he’s willing to help to get through this situation.

As he steps into the room, Paz hears a knock on the door. The kid runs over to it, babbling excitedly while waving their arms around. Paz smiles at the kid as he goes over to open it up. Standing on the other side is Obi-Wan, hands folded into the sleeves of his cloak. He smiles at Paz before directing his attention to the kid. 

They were begging to be picked up, grunting out the sound that was usually directed at either him or Din. Bending down to pick them up, his arms smoothly slip out of the sleeves of the cloak, leaving Paz a view of how much room one could store weapons in there if the person knew what they were doing.

“I assume you haven’t eaten since you’ve been captured?” Obi-Wan asks as he stands up. The kid snugs closer to the jetii, humming with content as they bury their head into the cloak.

“No,” Paz answers, leaning against the doorframe. 

Obi-Wan’s blue eyes sparkle, reminding Paz of his crush on the other man. “How about I show the two of you to the cafeteria to find something to eat.”

“Treating me to breakfast, jetii?” He says teasingly. He enjoys the way Obi-Wan’s lips twitch as if wanting to smile, but knowing better that he shouldn’t. It’s fine, he knows how to make them crack. “What would others think?”

“Hopefully not much since we have Ad’ika with us,” Obi-Wan says, using the same teasing tone that Paz used.

“Didn’t stop me with my riduur,” Paz admits freely. “Liked that I was good with the kid in fact.” He watches as Obi-Wan pauses at this, staring at Paz. As if he were trying to figure out where Paz was going with this.

“And you’re happy with him?” Obi-Wan asks cautiously.

“Yes, I am. I’m teasing you, jetii.”

The jetii narrows his eyes for a moment, likely trying to parse out if Paz was telling the truth. Paz doesn’t move, waiting for this moment to break. The kid makes an impatient sound and that gets the two of them to realize that they were all hungry. “Forgot for a moment, Ad’ika. My bad.” Paz said.

There’s a grumpy sound thrown at him and he laughs. “Lek, lek, we’re going now.”

All three of them travel down the hall, ready for whatever the Republic ship had to offer to them for food.


	13. Chapter Thirteen

It was early enough in the morning that Plo found himself in a mostly empty cafeteria. There were a few other troopers there, either getting a meal before heading to the barracks to sleep after finishing a shift or others sipping caffeinated tea to wake them up for their upcoming shifts. Most gave him a small wave or a grunt in reply when walking by them. It makes him smile that despite their tiredness, they’re willing to greet him in whatever way they can.

He spies a familiar pair and heads over to them. Plo stands near the table that has Click who looked as if his head was going to end up on the plate in front of him. Q7 was at his side, beeping cheerfully at Plo which he returned with a smile and a wave. Click looks over at him to see why the droid is making a fuss and pauses when he sees that it’s his General. He blinks slowly, still addled by sleep going by the state of the bags underneath his eyes. 

Through the Force, Plo can sense the momentary surprise - as if he can’t believe that his General was willing to be near him - and then it settles into something that Plo has come to know as forced nonchalant from the clones. It would go away in time, something he’s seen repeated over the course of this war from most of the clones. The shine of meeting a Jedi wore off at some point with repeated meetings and they treated him as a normal person, one who just happened to be coordinating their attacks against the Separatists.

After a moment, Click looks back at his plate, asking,” Would you like to sit with me General Koon, sir?”

“I would, Corporal,” Plo replies. He takes a seat beside Click, smiling when the clone quickly looks at him while this happens. “Did you come off duty before coming here?” Plo asks, curious about the young man.

There was a bit of hesitation in answering the question from Click, one that is soothed when Plo gives him a gentle smile. Shinies never expected his genuine want to know them, still believing what they were taught by the Kamonians about Jedi. That they as a collective group were supposed to be revered for their power and wisdom, as well as unapproachable with this line of thinking.

He read the reports by Master Ti about what goes on at the cloning facility - and her attempts to change some mods of teaching -, but it still saddens Plo to see it every time under his command. He was a person like them, not a god out of touch with the reality of their followers.

They deserved the same respect that they gave him.

“I did. Had a tough time keeping contact with Sparky in Coruscant during the shift since being in hyperspace makes the connection spotty at times.” Click explained. “Especially since Celanon Spur for a hyperspace lane.” Q7 beeps, agreeing with the clone in a more colourful way.

Click blushes at this, embarrassment radiating off the man. “Q7,  _ please! _ ”

A whirl of noise that Plo took to mean **‘What!’** in code. Click covers his face with his hands, embarrassment increasing. A few more noises escape the red droid, each a colourful swear at the clone - all said with delight that makes Plo move a hand up to his mask to cover his smile.

“Now, now, Q7, I’m sure he wasn’t trying to keep you quiet.” He said, trying to stop the droid in it’s teasing. “He’s just a bit embarrassed.”

“Yes, please, Q7.” Click begs, just as Q7 beeps, **’ Tell me about it,’** at the same time.

Click glares down at the droid who’s twisting its head as if it didn’t say anything. Plo smiles, putting a hand on the clone’s shoulder. “I think it might be best to not challenge them any further. Continue with your story, Corporal Click.”

He watches as Click sighs, turning away from the droid. “It’s fine sir, Q7 thinks it’s funny to embarrass me despite me being the one who repairs him. It’s just not usually in front of a General.”

Plo smiles softly. “You've grown close to him,” Plo says. He’d seen it with Anakin and R2 when he saw them roaming around the Temple. They saw something in the machinery that many others seem to miss, finding companionship that keeps them anchored.

“Yes, I have. He’s good at the work and keeps me company while we get messages out.” Click says, voice becoming softer. “Q7 is a good droid.”

Q7 beeps something that has Click smiling brightly. He puts a hand on top of its head, still smiling as it spins it around. Plo takes in the sight and the feeling of friendship and love that is released into the Force by the clone.

“You better finish your meal and get some sleep,” Plo said after Click moves his hand from the droid. “I’m sure there will be more messages to send once we get out of hyperspace.” 

The Corporal nods and returns to eating his meal. In between bites, he talks to Plo about the shift he had, trying to keep a line to Sparky who was trying to keep Radar - a different clone who was stationed with the 481st Legion on Ilum - since they were trying to make some trades with each other. Plo nods in some parts, asks questions where he can since he was interested in what the Corporal had to do as part of the 104th Battalion.

At some point, Wolffe comes to sit down next to Plo when Click was a few bites away from finishing his breakfast. Wolffe doesn’t say a word, cradling a mug of caff in his hands as he stares down at the table. Plo gently puts a hand on his Commander’s shoulder, feeling the exhaustion that settled over everything that Wolffe was currently feeling. He sends some soothing thoughts and feelings to Wolffe, hoping it would help the man wake up to power through his exhaustion.

He wouldn’t talk, not until he went for another cup of caff. Plo was used to seeing this, especially during long campaigns. Wolffe let himself run ragged, worried about keeping both his General and his men alive and a million other things to make sure the unit ran well. So Plo offered his comfort through actions, trying to ease the tension that gathered in the man and stayed there since Wolffe wasn’t one to open up easily. Or accept being guided to take some needed time for himself.

Click doesn’t speak any further, finishing up his meal before quietly leaving. Plo catches his eyes and gives him a nod, thanking the Corporal for understanding the situation. Click returns the nod and leaves the cafeteria with Q7 at his side.

He and Wolffe sat side by side in silence, letting the soft murmurs and clicking of utensils surround them as more and more clones came into the cafeteria for breakfast. 

The exhaustion that Wolffe is feeling becomes muted the more he wakes up - the caff doing its job. Plo moves his hand away, knowing that Wolffe would glare at him if he continued. Wolffe accepted his help up to a point. Then he wanted to do things himself, becoming prickly if he felt that Plo was waiting to swoop in to help.

It was like a padawan trying to be a bit more independent, wanting to prove themselves to their Master. Plo had seen it with his own padawans - pushing the boundaries in different areas that they wanted independence in - and with others’ padawans. So young and wanting to know the world around them, wishing to experience it themselves.

And it was sad to know that all clones were the same, forced to grow up quickly - physically and mentally - with their only purpose being part of an army, to fight a war that didn’t care if they lived or died. Seen as fodder by outsiders, as the same person.

It saddens Plo that after the war that any survivors were likely to be stranded, shut out of the Republic for their lack of citizenship. 

When he could get a moment alone with Mace, he was going to urge Mace to try to find a way for all the clones to be recognized as citizens before the end of the war. Maybe hunt through the Archives along with Obi-Wan to see if he can find a loophole that would lend a hand in giving the clones a fighting chance for citizenship.

“General Obi-Wan is coming this way with Paz,” Wolffe said, bringing Plo out of his thoughts. He spies the two men as they come closer to their table, Paz holding a tray of food while Obi-Wan holds the little one in his arms.

Plo smiles at the sight, glad to see that Paz was easing up around them. There was so much that they had to tiptoe around each other given the Mandalorian’s experiences in the future and lack of knowledge about those experiences from the Jedi. But Plo wanted to understand, just enough to help the man since he misses his riduur.

Paz sits down, the tray barely on top of the tabletop before he’s taking the little one from Obi-Wan and starts breakfast without acknowledging others at the table. Wolffe huffs out an amused sound, taking the last sip of the caff. Obi-Wan blinks, confused for a moment at the action. But settles to sit next to the tall man, amusement subtly crawling onto his face. 

(It was the sparkle in his eyes, the shape of his eyebrows where he was trying to keep a calm facade that gave away that he was amused.) Plo settles for leaning against the table, trying to help Paz with feeding the child. 

Force-sensitive foundlings were extra tricky to feed even with food they liked.

“How did you sleep?” He asks, holding a piece of dried meat in front of the little one. Yoda liked meat, often catching any frogs he could find in the gardens. He figured it would be the same for the little one.

Wolffe gets up to refill his mug, mumbling something about Jedi to himself. As the little one grabbed the piece out of his hands, Paz replied,” Good. Didn’t wake until early this morning.”

“Good, good. We should be arriving in a few hours to Coruscant.” He watches as Paz momentarily pauses, body stiffening. The child looks away from the food to coo softly at their father, concerned. “We’ve made sure to keep what happened here under wraps. Only Master Windu was informed that you’re arriving with us.”

“So that would be a definite no on asking for my armour back?” Paz asks, his brown eyes flickering between Plo and Obi-Wan. It made sense that he would be uncomfortable to be parted with the armour even with the roots in being in Death Watch would raise some suspicion in Coruscant.

“Unfortunately no.” Obi-Wan starts, sounding apologetic. “We would have to keep them stored somewhere since the signate on your pauldrons would give away who you’re with and make it harder to return you home.”

Paz’s eyes flicker down to the table, obviously distressed by this. Plo tilts his head, wondering how much the armour meant to the man. Obi-Wan knew a bit about Mandalorians from his time protecting Satine, but Quinlan would be the better person to ask since Master Tholme had the young man study Mandalorian history when he was a Padawan.

“We can offer you a replacement if you feel uncomfortable without wearing any armour,” Plo says, trying to give the man a middle ground to come to. “It might not be the same as beskar or durasteel, but it could bring you comfort.”

Paz doesn’t lift his gaze to Plo. At least not right away. 

He offers the little one more food, still trying to provide for them even while going through something that obviously distressed him. Plo waits patiently, knowing it would yield him something from the Mandalorian.

That’s when Wolffe returns, mug filled with caff in hand. He looked at all of them, narrowing his eyes as he tried to figure out what happened since he was gone. “General, do I sense something that involves me lying to supply lines?” He said finally, looking at Plo.

“It might,” Plo said back, smiling warmly at his commander. “Depends on Paz’s answer.”

“Whatever it is, please say no. They keep trying to nail me to the wall for some of the requests I send in and it’s exhausting.” Wolffe said as he sat down at the table. He stares at Paz, taking a sip of his caff.

Paz looks up at Wolffe, brow furrowing at the clone commander. The little one makes a sound, not entirely happy that their father has forgotten to give them another piece of meat to them. As Plo reaches for another piece to feed the little one from off the tray, Paz says,” Maybe you would be up for the challenge.”

Wolffe puts down his mug, confusion only evident through the Force. “Oh? Why would I rise to such bait?”

“Don’t you want to see if you can get past the suppliers for plastoid armour for a man my size?” Paz said, smirking. “Aren’t you a bit curious, Wolff’ika?”

That was enough to earn an eyebrow raise from Wolffe. As well as curious glances by Plo and Obi-Wan. “You think some bait and teasing will get to me when my vode hasn’t yet? Try again.”

“Could do some combat training if you can pull it off, see who’s better,” Paz offers up, smirk still on his face. “I would like to see your training without being angrier than a loth-cat whose tail is being yanked. What do you say, we got a deal?”

Wolffe thinks it over for a few seconds. But Plo knew by the excitement that he’s feeling that Wolffe had already decided to say yes. “If I were to secure you some armour without suppliers writing me up, we can do hand to hand combat training at the barracks on Coruscant.”

“Deal,” And with that, the two men reached over the table to grab at their forearms and did a handshake of sorts with each other. 

Plo feels the excitement from the two of them as the deal was finalized. He catches Obi-Wan’s eye, seeing the man sigh. As if he didn’t cause similar pain for others when things went off the rails in his missions or flirted with the enemy every chance he got (he remembers Mace’s exasperated tone when seeing that the first time on the battlefield. It was great to see the conflicting emotions on the man’s face that turn into an eye roll in real-time, well worth having to deal with Kenobi‘s flirting before the few weeks leading up to it.)

“You have any excuses you can use that won’t get you flagged by the suppliers, Commander Wolffe?” Obi-Wan asks innocently, smiling.

“ _ Kriff _ ,” Wolffe groans, suddenly reminded what he would have to do to fulfill the deal he just created. Plo hides a wide smile behind his hands, enjoying the glare that his commander sends to the rest of the table who were smiling or laughing at his misfortune.

  
  


_________

Paz takes the kid to the observation deck after breakfast, wanting them to have a chance to run around before they had to be carried when landing in Coruscant. At his side were two clones, both wearing plastoid armour that was decorated with yellow paint as they escorted him to the deck while their general went to deal with some paperwork. He could feel them staring at him, their interest going beyond making sure he doesn’t escape their sight. 

He doesn’t understand it. Especially since he didn’t do anything other than holding the child and speak quietly to them in Mando’a.

He doesn’t do anything about it until all of them arrive at the observation deck. As he lets the kid go - watching as they coo and run around in circles in the room - he turns to his guards, crossing his arms. Only one reacts to this, taking a step back in response while the other stands his guard, hand on his hip where his blaster is.

“Why do you keep staring like that?” Paz asks. He knew the signs, had seen it all his life with adults and friends alike. One had to read the signs when there weren't any facial expressions to use as a guideline.

“It was me,” The one said, voice sounding apologetic. “Sorry, I was just curious about you and the kid.”

“Waxer, don’t bother him.” The other said, sounding gruff and exasperated.

“What, he caught me! Not like we can fool him about it, he wore armour like us!” Waxer said, turning his attention towards his partner. Paz watches as they bickered, arguing whether it was right to bother Paz.

This was a familiar scene as well, one he had seen play out many times between friends and siblings in the Covert. He smiles, remembering his life back in the Covert before everything with Moff Gideon happened. Paz goes to sit on the floor, back along the wall as he watches these two continue to bicker with each other while the Ad'ika continued to run around the room.

At some point, Waxer remembers what started the argument and turns his attention back to Paz. “I just wanted to know how you care for the kid if you’re not the same species. Isn’t it difficult to know what they need?”

“Childrearing is always difficult,” Paz starts. All the foundlings in the Covert, both human and alien had their own challenges. Ad’ika was the same even if they were technically older than him and Din. “But it’s just spending time with them and figuring out what works that makes it a bit easier.”

“And they can understand you?” Waxer asks, stepping closer. Boil is beside him, still glaring at his brother like he couldn’t believe that this was happening on his watch. “In Basic and Mando’a?”

“They can understand enough to know when they're in trouble.” This was said with a fond smile. Paz looks to see the kid giggling wildly, twirling around with their arms out in the middle of the room, oblivious to the conversation. “But we don’t know if they can say anything yet.”

“Who’s  _ we _ ?” Boil asks. Paz knows his eyes are narrowing with the tone that’s inflicted on those two words.

“Boil, come on, we’re just watching him.”

“He’s still a prisoner, he doesn’t need special treatment from us. Either of us.”

“We would be me and my riduur,” Paz answers, catching his guards' attention again. “He found the ad’ika and took care of them before I entered the picture of their clan.”

“Where is he?” Waxer questions.

“I don’t know,” Paz didn’t think about the fact that being in a different time period meant that his husband might not be able to find him. That Din might have to give up on looking for them if he can’t find any lead to that temple and live without his kid or husband. His heart becomes heavy, filled with the sorrow if such a situation had to happen.

He would want Din to be happy, whether that was with him or not. But he knew how much the ad’ika meant to his riduur, how much joy they brought him since they met. “He’s probably looking for the kid and me.”

“He won’t break onto the ship, will he?” The bit of shuffling from Waxer tells Paz that he’s nervous.

Paz chuckles, trying to imagine what a scene Din would make for a rescue for his husband and child. Considering he went straight to the Imps hideout - filled with Stormtroopers guarding it - to reclaim the kid after the bounty had been fulfilled, Paz doesn’t doubt he would do the same to get onto a Republic battleship for them.

“Depends. He’s very determined when it comes to those he considers close to. Probably why he was chosen to be the bounty hunter for the Covert.” As he says this, the kid comes back to him, smiling wide.

He opens his arms, picking them up to press a kiss to their forehead. They squealed, giggling soon after when he pressed a few more to the top of their head. “But, I’m sure your general will be prepared to deal with that. Obi-Wan seems like he could speak some sense into ner utreekov riduur.”

“Better be careful, he might sweep him off his feet,” Boil said with a deadpan tone. The clone was right, but not about which man his general had swept off their feet.

“Boil!” That earned Boil a shoulder bump from Waxer causing him to stumble for a step or two.

“Waxer, the man flirted with Ventress in the middle of battling her, I don’t doubt he wouldn’t do it to an angry Mandalorian trying to get his family back,” Boil hissed at the other clone, glaring through the black visor.

Paz tries not to think about thought, about his riduur and Obi-Wan fighting each other, flirting in the middle of battle. It was tempting, very tempting. But he was committed to Din and he wasn’t going to bring his crush on the jetii into their relationship unless they talked about it together.

Which he doubts will happen unless Din also got whisked to the past as well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kriff - Swear Word  
> Ad'ika - Little One  
> Riduur - Partner, Husband, Wife  
> Ner Utreekov Riduur - My idiot husband
> 
> An update! And the last one for a while since the Spring Semester is upon me! But I'm so glad I was able to get a few more chapters in during my break bc I love this fic a lot and love seeing how excited you guys get about it! Plus I was motivated a bit more this time since sadcoffeemonkey on Tumblr sent me fanart they did of this fic and they were absolutely amazing/adorable! :D
> 
> Hopefully, this was a fun chapter to read! :D


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